Fire Of The Soul
by Ferahgo05
Summary: The Dark Ocean is on the move, but it's target isn't what the Destined would expect. And an old hero receives a summons he himself cannot yet comprehend. Adventure Fic, pairings.... we'll see...
1. Chapter I: Whispers of Accessibility

Right, same old notes as everyone else, I don't own Digimon. Never have, never will. Now that that's over…

**Fire of the Soul**

**Part I: The Entrance Antiphon**

Lift up your head, O Forgotten Gate, and see

Behold, the Dark Prince makes his entrance

Upon a troubled world, of men, not demons,

That long ignored their presence.

Men, not demons, or perchance many a demon,

That walks in a guise of man, awaiting

The Dark One who comes, to extinguish the Light,

Found in those who hold their humanity sacred.

Too many hidden ones, a doomed world, a dying world,

That you open your doors unto, Great Portal.

Await the downfall you foresee, for time heals not

The long-standing venom of Hatred.

Hold you but Darkness and gloom? Can not

Your aperture open with a Holier fire?

"One alone shall come through, leader of the Light,

Fire of the Soul, to this dying world.

Long will be his labor, many the pain he'll bear.

Through my heart of Darkness, a lance of Mercy

For the dying. And in dying, many an innocent will he spare."

So spoke the Door of Doom, that long had been forgotten.

**Chapter I: Whispers of Accessibility**

The sun was rising, golden rays gently cascading down upon a world he didn't recognize. From far above the surface, each ray of light unveiled some new, magnificent aspect of an altogether beautiful world. Immense forests of hardwood and evergreen trees stretched down from the slopes of hunchbacked mountain peaks and spread into the lowland regions below. Where the oak and fir ended, wide plains of waist-high grasses spread out like emerald seas. Throughout the land, usually tucked within valleys or nestled in shadowy clearings stood small villages, surrounded by copper fields of grain and hay. And here and there across the brilliant landscape, tall and proud upon solid foundations, stood great walled cities, thrusting their towers and battlements of stone high into the clear sky.

True, the land bore the scars of war nearly everywhere he looked. Within the shadows cast by the trees, swaths of charred and scorched stumps indicated that great fires had burned like funeral piers in the recent past. High upon the mountain passes, the snow was trampled by many footprints, and dyed red in places where soldiers had strove to hold, or to conquer the descent to the plains below. Partly hidden within the swaying grasses of the plains, discarded and damaged war-gear glinted in the sun. Many of the villages upon closer examination proved to be burned out shells, citadels around which battles had been waged. Even the strong cities bore witness to war. Their walls wore pock marks and gaps where besiegers had unleashed their fury. But terrible as these scars might be, they seemed to lend a quiet dignity to this still world. This world had seen much bloodshed, and remained strong, worth loving and fighting for.

Much like his own world. Much like the world he had been called to safeguard.

Deep within him, a little spark of feeling flickered to life; a strange sense of kinship with the world below his feet. Whatever transpired on that beautiful stage, whether tumultuous, climatic events of high valor, or prosaic day-to-day tasks of a young farm hand, each held a value, an importance that he instinctively sensed. Life here was a drama, to be gazed upon with bated breath, to be lived, with an enthusiasm born of the beautiful. This was a place that called out, and his heart couldn't help but answer.

But even as this gentle attraction tugged at the boundaries of his mind, he noticed something odd that, surprisingly, he had overlooked till now. The world below appeared deserted. Every detail in sight promised a wealth of life and movement, but as his eyes traversed the landscape, an unbroken stillness reigned. Not a single bird lilting from tree to bramble, no livestock grazing through the pastures, no men traveling the sylvan countryside. Wherever his eyes traversed, the land stood silent and still, as if every living creature lay hidden away from prying eyes.

"_This can't be right…" _There were far too many signs of habitation for the land to be completely uninhabited.

His eyes continued to probe the surface, searching for someone, anyone. Cities, towns, hamlets, his eyes swept the whole region, at first casually, then more and more franticly. For reasons he didn't understand, it was suddenly imperative for him to find the people.

"_Where are they!? This is the Western Region, they should be here!"_

The thoughtsinhisownhead made little sense to him; neither did his anxious search for the people of the land. This world was completely foreign to him. So who was he seeking so urgently for? And why did he expect to find "them" in the "Western Region?"

But even as he puzzled over his own confusing thoughts and unaccountable knowledge, images began to arise in the recesses of his mind. Faces, strangers to him, yet oddly familiar flashed before him, causing him to draw his breath sharply.

_A strong, aged face of a mustachioed man, hair graying with the onset of age, but holding his shoulders straight and proud and unyielding._

_A handsome, youthful face belonging to a blonde haired teenager, blue eyes twinkling with wit, but juxtaposed against a livid scar across his left cheek, which added a touch of sternness to his features._

_An attractive, warm face of a smiling young woman with shoulder length saffron hair, whose light brown eyes spoke of easily stirred pity, tempered with hard-earned experience._

_A grim, seared face of a young man in his late twenties, unrelenting gray eyes gleaming with responsibility and aggression._

Names flitted about the edges of his mind, tantalizingly close, but just out of his grasp. Something scolded him gently, calling him to task for forgetting who these people were. But why would he know their names? They weren't even…

Another face materialized in his mind, surprise interrupting his thoughts. _"Hikari!?"_

No, not his sister, but astoundingly close in appearance. The same petite, girlish figure, same cute oval face, same short, bobbed hairstyle. A near-perfect image of Hikari Yagami, but with slight differences. This girl's hair shone a deep blue-black as opposed to Hikari's soft brown. And her eyes burned with an intense sea blue color; his sister's eyes were a beautiful auburn tone. But from what he could see, the same heartfelt gentleness resided in both girls…

What was this feeling? His breath seemed to catch in his throat. These people… faces he'd never seen before, but he knew them somehow, deep within his soul. They were friends… and more than that. There was light in their eyes, whether the eyes were stern, or kind or sad. They were companions who needed him…

Amazement at such thoughts broke into his mind, shattering the images like a mirror dropped upon concrete. This was completely ridiculous. He'd never met these people, never dreamed they existed. For all he knew, they didn't exist, except in his mind, in his dreams. These thoughts were sheer foolishness. What was wrong with him?

Shaking his mind free from these strangely magnetic visualizations, he found himself gazing down upon a vast inland sea. He had wandered far in more than just his thoughts apparently.

He sought about for a reference point, something to connect the previous district with this fresh one. Far to the north, rising up in place of a conventional shoreline, stood the mountain range he had observed previously, whose snowy passes held the stains and wreckage of battle. From this distance, the immense trees that rose from the foot of the western slopes reminded him of light moss, or the lichen that thrived on the corroding stonework of abandoned shrines and monuments.

So, he had traveled south.

Even farther to the south, another mountain range overhung the waters, a larger, less forested counterpart of the mountain range to the north, but just as distant. The sea fit into a cavernous hollow set between the two titanic piles of stone, a massive valley that had been filled to its brim with water. And beneath his feet, at the very center of the inland sea, a dark island jutted forth from the sapphire waters.

"Dark" is a word seldom used to describe a land mass, but he could imagine no truer depiction. The island looked _stained_, as if long ago ink from a giant pen had been spilled across the surface, and over time been absorbed into the stuff the island was made of. The stain showed a midnight black close to the heart of the island, the epicenter of the spill, and gradually lost its depth and intensity close to the cliffs that formed the shoreline.

As his mind noted these details, analyzing and judging what they could signify, he discovered that he was beginning to descend.

Already, the towering mountains were fading into smudges on the horizon as his altitude rapidly decreased. It was still difficult to make out any details on the island's surface, but he could vaguely distinguish darker and lighter shades of black near the middle of the "spill," possibly forming some sort of design or pattern.

His eyes began to tear, tiring from the effort exerted peering into the inky obscurity of the surface. Several moments passed before any change became noticeable, then suddenly he was close enough to distinguish details.

The variation in shading came from contrast, the darkest shades caused by deep and shadowy roads and alleys, the relatively lighter shades caused by structures projecting high above the surface, towers and high walls dimly visible to his descending eyes. He was sinking into the midst of a city of stone ruins, laying cracked and broken, slowly decaying in abandonment.

No sooner had his mind grasped these details than darkness enveloped his world. The sun had abandoned him. Or to be more accurate, perhaps it was he that had left the sun behind. He had entered the ruins, a place of shadow separated from the day. The darkness within this corroding city reigned as heavily within the city as appearances suggested from without. The glorious rays of the sun held no sway here.

He should have been alarmed, tensed to expect an attack, preparing for conflict. He was the chosen of Courage, leader of the most powerful chosen of his world. Darkness personified the enemy, a threat to the forces of Light. His own life and the lives of those he loved were dedicated to safeguarding two worlds from its menace. Dear friends had died so that he and his team of chosen could beat it back, halt its encroachment over the Light. But as the darkness swirled about him, caressing his exposed skin, penetrating his deep brown eyes, he remained abnormally calm. The darkness held no threat for now, within its territory the darkness held itself in reserve... but soon…

He had been descending for some time.

_"The_ _ground_ _must_ _be_ _close…" _His eyes caught a change in his midnight surroundings. "_There…"_ With an unsteady step, like an inexperienced man exiting a mall escalator, his feet touched down upon the worn stone of a wide thoroughfare. His sight had returned, having abjured its dependence on the sun. Now vision existed again, but not by the influence of light. Darkness had its own form of illumination here, blurred, misleading, tantalizing with the false promise of warmth, but sight-lending just the same.

His first impression of his surroundings had been the darkness, his second impression was less physical. The city was _waiting_. Somehow, he instinctively knew this to be true. There was expectation in the air, restless expectation, swirling about the streets and hollow buildings like a fitful autumn breeze.

_"Something's coming._"The recognition rose unbidden in his mind.

He gazed about the street in frustration. Too many obstructions curtailed his vision, deepening curls of shadow blew about the dark streets. This sight without sight, it revealed so little. But he needed to know where _it_ would appear.

Hardly had his consciousness formed the silent query then the city itself provided an answer. His back stiffened suddenly as the feeling of expectation changed, focusing in a way that made him shiver. Gone was the impression of a swirling breeze. He sensed the expectation condensing, hardening. It brushed against him like needles, sharp and thorny, concentrating inward toward a fixed point. The center of the ruins.

He began to walk along the fractured stone avenue, taking the path that dissembled least from the focus point of this nonphysical energy. His motives were unclear even to himself. Possibly his own being had imbibed the expectation that ran so high through this place. It wasn't curiosity… he was waiting, too.

An immense granite building extended along the left side of his path, shielding his objective from view. From corner to corner, its exposed wall reached nearly 160 meters in length. His eyes traced a crack in the wall to the lofty roofline, but failed to unearth any form of decoration or embellishments. Far above, each corner stood crowned by a massive tower.

Identical walls, bare of decoration but portraying past strength and grandeur, loomed wherever he looked, though they differed in size and level of corrosion. Time had reduced many structures to little more than piles of rubble, but even the disrepair failed to conceal that this city had once been a formidable center of power.

He rounded the corner, stepping through a wide archway which spanned the distance between the tower-crowned monolith and a crumbling, high-spired mausoleum. Before him lay a vast stone courtyard. Rubble from fallen stonework littered the ground about the perimeter, spreading inward towards the center. The fashion in which the stone had tumbled away from the building gave the appearance of fallen men, whose last efforts had gone into extending their arms, reaching out towards… the fountain.

The fountain. It sat lower than the surrounding courtyard, at the bottom of a sort of bowl hollowed out of the stone. Water no longer cascaded from its midst; even the stone carving it once emanated from had shattered, leaving a jagged stump. But these things hardly mattered.

It was the water that caught the eye. If the stone of the city was the blackness of midnight, then the water of this fountain was the void of eternity. Such dark water…

His feet seemed to be moving on their own. He staggered, nearly falling down a flight of tall stone steps that he hadn't noticed before. Reaching the bottom, his feet began propelling him across the courtyard. The fountain… he had to reach it… His hands outstretched, found the stone sill. Its touch was icy cold.

"I'm coming!" The words tore out of his throat in a ragged whisper, the first he'd spoken since entering this world.

He reached down, into the black water… To touch… And faded away…

* * *

Sunlight.

Taichi sensed it's presence, even before his deep brown eyes flickered open. Soft dawn light streamed through the window by the foot of his bed. The island had vanished, dispelled by the coming of the day. He had been dreaming.

But it had been so real. Every aspect stood out plainly in his mind. Flying across a motionless world… Peering through the midnight avenues of a ruined city… His palms still felt the icy cold of the fountain sill… And the faces, intangible images only, even in the dream, but no less vivid now that he had awaken.

The iridescent red numbers on his bedside clock read 6:00AM.

"That was so weird."

Taichi abruptly pulled aside his bedding and swung his long, muscled legs off the mattress. He rarely ever remember dreams upon awakening, and the few exceptions were always vague, disoriented flashes, without a clear sequence of events.

This was just… bizarre…

Despite the early hour, the natural laziness born of summer and a three hour time gap until he was expected at work, he had no desire to go back to sleep. The darkness had felt so close,so _tangible_... He had faded…

_"Not going to think about that just now." _Taichi vigorously shook his head to clear his mind, which only caused his hair to settle across his eyes like a fluffy sheepdog.

He batted his hair out of his way with an impatient gesture. It had been a dream for crying out loud! A nighttime phantom like that shouldn't affect him this much!

But the darkness… it had been so real… and his palms still felt the icy touch…

Even within the golden fingers of dawn, thoughts of darkness forced themselves towards him. The thin shadows cast by the objects strewn across his room brought his mind back to the ruins of his dream. In the back of his mind, an uneasy impression began to crystallize. The way he felt now… almost made him think the darkness of the ruins had contaminated his being, coated his skin like an oil spill coats a shorefront…

A shower would be good.

With a quick, decisive movement that denied the sudden chill around his heart, he arose from the bed and stepped across the clutter that carpeted the floor, aiming for a pile of cloths near the door. Boxers, jeans, T-shirt…. Socks?

_"Darn, no socks this time." _

At least the laundry was clean. Every article of clothing _not_ in this one pile could be classified as a pollutant. Hikari's words, not Taichi's. Taichi added gathering dirty laundry and depositing it in the laundry hamper to his mental to-do list. He'd find time later. Maybe. Right now, desire for a warm, soothing shower held dominance in his mind.

He slipped quietly from the confines of his room. Three quick steps down the hall brought him up short, all thoughts of the dream driven from his mind by a closer threat. Across the worn carpet stood a rival. Hikari Yagami, Taichi's little sister, was just closing the door of her own room, carrying in her arms an assortment of clothing, cosmetics and a hairbrush.

Both siblings took in the appearance of their counterpart, judging their current position, mentally gauging their chances of success. Taichi, feeling a sudden glow of confidence, let loose an evil, predatory smile. This time he held the advantage.

Hikari's eyes widened in sudden desperation. She too could read the signs. But Taichi knew the child of Light possessed too much of his own stubbornness to give up without a fight.

Without a word, both parities lunged down the hall towards each other.

He had a three step lead, and his athletic legs made short work of the distance to the bathroom, a full five steps before his sister.

Hikari let loose a wail of anger and defeat as the door slammed in her face. "Dang it Taichi! I have to get in there! Takeru's going to be here in an hour and I have to get ready!"

Gleeful laugher radiated from under the door, the only response from the conqueror within.

Taichi leaned against the porcelain sink, nearly doubled over from his own hilarity. Hikari was such a great little sister… and tougher than she looked. He would do well to watch his back for the next day or so. Little sis had learned much about playful revenge in the last few years.

With a contented sigh he shifted his weight, straightening up from his stooped stance, resting his hands upon the porcelain sink.

It was icy cold…

Taichi recoiled as from a poisonous snake. It was the same touch. The same icy touch as the fountain sill, the sill that overshadowed an inky pool. And right after the touch and the pool had come fading…

_"No!"_ With a wrenching pull, Taichi brought his mind back from the ruined courtyard. The dream was finished, there would be no returning.

Taichi's train of thought broke off suddenly, severed by a new and disturbing idea. Without a logical reason, he was treating the world from his dream as a real place, an existence separate from his own mind. Deep inside of him dwelt the conviction that he hadn't been dreaming at all.

Taichi reached into the shower and turned on the hot water. Too many questions, it was more than he could handle at the moment. He needed time, time to put aside these disturbing notions and unaccountable convictions and think things through logically. But not now. Later.

Slowly, carefully, Taichi stepped beneath the steaming spray and let his body and mind relax. _"Ummmmmmm, hot water_."

The cold touch of stone, or porcelain, finally began to fade from his palms, a gift from the gloriously hot cascade falling from the showerhead. The caress of the water slowly began to loosen whatever hold the dream had over him. He allowed himself a relieved sigh, which slowly expanded to include contentment.

Taichi decided poor Hikari would be in for a very long wait.

* * *

In the end, Mrs. Yagami had to be called upon to eject her son from the bathroom before all the hot water for the apartment complex was used up. Hikari had already finished breakfast by this point, and now sat seething at the kitchen table, imagining all sorts of horrible tortures Taichi would suffer in the near future.

The shower had done wonders. Taichi's confidence had returned, along with the majority of his usual lightheartedness. His earlier victory over the younger Yagami had yet been celebrated, at least not within her view. It was time to remind her.

Taichi regally entered the kitchen, head erect, chest out, the perfect image of a champion returning to his kingdom after a glorious fight. His manner spoke volumes. Obviously, here stood a victor; where then, stood the vanquished?

The insult was only compounded by his complete disregard of Hikari's vicious death-stare.

"So, you're finally done abusing the hot water, eh?" Mr. Yagami's muffled voice emanated from behind his customary newspaper.

Susumu Yagami's presence had been completely missed by his showboating son.

Taichi slouched into a hard-backed wooden chair and scooted up to the kitchen table. "I wouldn't use the term 'abusing,' Dad. 'Appreciating' would be a better description."

Susumu grinned quietly as he folded his newspaper and stretched. "Alright sport, if you put it that way, I guess its fine." With elaborate and exaggerated care, he checked his wrist watch and grimaced. "I've got to be at the office early today, meetings and such." An exaggerated sigh. "The life of a corporate employee. Tell your mother I might be late for dinner tonight. The meetings."

Taichi grinned as his father rose from his chair.

"Meetings? Or is mom making something that involves broccoli for dinner?"

Mr. Yagami reached out and batted his son's messy hair in a friendly manner.

"Maybe…" The father answered his son's grin with one that was nearly identical. "I'll see you tonight, Taichi."

Taichi began searching the kitchen for food as Mr. Yagami gave his still pouting daughter a quick hug and left the apartment. Cereal… some sort of homemade cucumber bread… a leftover egg stew… more cereal… mushroom pancakes… lots of broccoli… and more cereal.

"Isn't there anything edible in this house besides cereal?!"

Hikari chose this moment to remind her brother that she was still alive, and still royally ticked. "I'm surprised you're even hungry. I thought that all that hot water you wasted would slow your metabolism to a standstill. But I forgot, my _darling_ big brother has all the eating qualities of a mine shaft."

"Hikari, such bitterness. I never thought the word "darling" could hold so much venom." Taichi's voice simply oozed false sincerity. Well, he and Mimi never had that much in common anyway…

Hikari snorted in derision. "Mom made egg salad last night, she still had leftover eggs after the egg stew…"

"…But one of us will dump it and pick up _real_ eggs salad at the store." Taichi finished for her with a beaming smile.

"Shhhhh! Taichi, She'll hear you!"

Taichi's lopsided grin only grew wider.

Hikari shook her head in mock disapproval. Inside, she was attempting to slay a sudden upsurge of laughter. Taichi always had that effect on her. She just couldn't stay peeved at him for long. This morning was no exception. That wouldn't prevent her from obtaining glorious revenge later, but for now she would stand down. Besides, Takeru would be arriving soon, and she still wasn't prepared yet.

"If Takeru shows up while I'm getting ready, please promise not to scare him off. This isn't a date we're going on, so the overprotective big brother act isn't appropriate."

Taichi feigned a look of intense contemplation. "Hmmmmm, kill him… or kill him not…"

"Taichi!" Hikari slapped him playfully on the arm.

"Ouch! Alright, he can live this time! Sheesh, little sisters turn fifteen and think they can assault their caring, loving, innocent older brothers."

"Innocent?" Hikari's left eyebrow nearly lifted off her head. "You?"

"Don't give me that." Taichi let his face form the perfect pout. While his sister was helpless with laughter, Taichi reflected on something that had been troubling him for some time now. His little sister and the young Takaishi were closer than most dating couples, but as Hikari had just admitted, Takeru hadn't shown the slightest sign of asking her out. Normally, a hesitation to ask the younger Yagami out found its origin at Taichi's feet. It was common knowledge that the leader of the Odaiba digidestined possessed an overprotective streak bordering on the psychotic. But in this instance, Taichi held himself blameless. Sure, like most young men interested in Hikari, Takeru still feared Taichi like the Bubonic plague. But hidden beneath the death-glares and ominous, half-hidden threats, Taichi had done his best to _encourage _the young blonde. Takeru was different then the other young men who hovered about Hikari, attracted to her gentle beauty like moths to flame; Takeru had a history Taichi could respect. He was an original digidestined, the holder of the crest of Hope. During the first digital war, Takeru had been charged with protecting Hikari in Taichi's absence. Hope risked everything to defend Light from the darkness; and despite Takeru's relatively young age at the time, Taichi had been confident his sister would be safe with the young boy. No other man could claim to have proven himself so well.

But the boy obviously wasn't getting the hint.

"Hikari, why hasn't Takeru asked you out yet?"

The amusement left her face quickly, replaced by a slightly hurt dejection. Hikari hadn't been expecting the conversation to suddenly take on a serious direction.

Taichi growled to himself quietly. "_Takeru_…"

"I don't know, Taichi. We've practically been dating for a whole year now, but… I don't know. I wish he would."

Taichi sat back and reflected. The youngster needed a talking to; the subtle prodding apparently had no effect on oblivious youths. Either himself or Yamato would have to take care of the situation; a nice little… scratch that… a _very_ _heavy _kick in the pants.

He'd have to get on that right away. But first, something to help his baby sister.

"Hikari, you've know Takeru since the two of you were eight, and anyone would have to be blind not to see how close you two have become. I'm not the type to speak for someone else," There it was again, the raised eyebrows, even when he was trying to be serious. "but I'm sure he's planning to ask you. He's probably waiting for a really special moment." She still looked unconvinced, but a slight sparkle in her auburn eyes indicated that she wanted him to continue. She wanted reassurance. "Special moments don't come everyday, Hikari. Just give him a little more time. He wouldn't stick to you so closely and take such good care of you if what I'm saying wasn't true."

His words had the right effect. The dismal look cleared away from Hikari's face like mist retreating from bright sunlight. In its place appeared a hopeful, almost wistful expression. Yep, Taichi reflected, Takeru still had a chance. His spirit held an important place in her heart. But for how long would it last? Hopeful young love could be easily killed by disappointment, or by a loss of confidence in the beloved.

For now though, the situation was under control. Hikari flashed her brother a grateful smile before exiting the kitchen, her brother's words still resonating through her head.

The older Yagami confused those who didn't know him well. The lazy, annoying, impulsive, _dense_ soccerhead could, in an instant, transform into the determined, levelheaded, perceptive leader that had led a team of kids to save two worlds, always ready with the right word or action to make a situation better. Almost schizophrenic really.

But wonderful to have in a brother.

_"Thank you, Taichi."_

Back in the kitchen, Taichi heard the bathroom door close softly and the muffled hissing of the showerhead begin as he finally concluded that yes, cereal was the only edible food in the house. "_Thank_ _god_ _for_ _coffee." _That was at least one thing his mom couldn't contaminate. He hoped.

Taichi reached over the counter to fill his mug.

Maybe he'd stop at a restaurant on his way to that dank, gloomy dungeon filled with disgruntled troll, otherwise know as Kurita Insurance Agency. Why he'd taken an internship at that godforsaken pit was beyond him. The Foreign Service was his career of choice, not insurance sales. But at the time the pay had looked good, and the office was close to home.

Well, he was stuck with it for now. Taichi absently swirled the coffee about the bottom of his mug before gulping the aromatic liquid.

"_Egg salad." _He shuddered.

* * *

Never had walking home from work granted such joy as it did today. Not only was he emancipated from that dim office/prison that sucked up eight hours of his day, but the longer summer days granted longer daylight hours for his enjoyment. Daylight. The word had a magical ring to it. All day, while he typed up transcripts and minutes, ran errands from floor to floor, or simply brewed coffee for the higher-ups, he'd been longing for it. Being stuck in the gloomy office, surrounded by jaded, unhappy career salesmen and accountants had been a torment. He'd sworn that the shadows throughout the building were the same as those in his dream.

Outside, striding down the solid concrete sidewalks bathed in the glow of solar rays, darkness of any type seemed far away.

Light was such an amazing phenomena. It provided sight to the world, bestowed energy upon living creatures and gently warmed whatever it touched. Even beyond such physical blessing, light played an almost spiritual role within life's course. Whatever light caressed took on a brilliance and dignity that no object could hold without it. A rock was more than just a rock under sunlight, it was a solid, integral, connected part of a solid, integral, connected world. The light provided evidence that things were real, that they in fact did exist. Descartes, a French philosopher, had once started as a premise for existence, "I think, therefore I am." Descartes was wrong. It should have been, "I see, therefore everything is."

Darkness was an concealer, removing sight from the world. It hid the essential connections between people and objects, allowing the illusion of aloneness and unreality. Mistakes were made in the darkness. The familiar became the alien. Loneliness and isolation crept into hearts.

Even so, darkness was not evil in its own right. It was even essential. Life couldn't continue without periods of solitude, brief windows set aside for privacy and rest. But darkness had a history of overriding its bounds, attempting to usurp light's rightful place, forcing aside the bounds that held the world together.

That was why those who loved the light had the responsibility to stand guard over light's precious domain, why they were called forth to combat darkness when it overstepped its bounds. It was why he was a digidestined, why he fought so hard and so long against the darkness.

So that men and woman could walk down a concrete sidewalk and feel the sunlight caress their skin and raise their spirits.

God, he loved the light.

Would it really look too weird for an athletic young man in a wrinkled dress shirt and gold tie to skip?

Taichilaughedaloud at his own absurd thoughts, startling fellow pedestrians who eyed him warily and hurried out of his path. A wry smile pulled at his mouth. Since people already supposed him demented…

* * *

The unopened bud still lacked a day or so to reach full maturity, but already radiated a beautiful scarlet. A fitting color for as sharp a plant as a rose. A careless hand, clumsily clutching its emerald stem might easily display an identical color, punishment for not respecting the beautiful flower.

_"Morbid thoughts…"_

Sora Takanouchi sighed quietly to herself. It was no good allowing her problems to influence everything else about her life. Watching her mother's flower shop generally cheered her mood. People came here to pick out the perfect blossom for something special. A joyous occasion, a friend in need of encouragement and hope, a meaningful goodbye, a cherished partner in life. Flowers spoke a language, the language of Sora's own crest. They spoke love. They helped her remember… herself.

Now her mood was weighing down the flowers…

She gently added the rosebud to the arrangement arrayed upon the counter before her. Twelve roses, six the same deep scarlet, six a pure white. This bouquet was destined to enhance some unknown woman's day, courtesy of an awkward young man who stood fidgeting on the other side of the counter. Sora smiled to herself as she surreptitiously studied her client.

He had probably spent all afternoon preparing for this night. Every chestnut brown hair on his head was in place, his tan dress slacks were carefully ironed and pressed, the starched white dress shirt fit him perfectly, and his blue striped tie… well, at least it didn't clash with anything, even if blue wasn't really his color…

The bouquet was complete, beautifully wrapped in clear cellophane. With a smile, she handed over her artwork to the young man with unspoken hope in his eyes.

"Here you are, six white and six red. I hope she likes them." She couldn't suppress the impulsive wink that tugged at her bright red-brown eyes. Her customer blushed and incoherently muttered his thanks.

"No problem." Sora studied his face closely for a moment, causing his blush to intensify. "Don't worry so much. You'll do fine. Just relax."

A mute nod and a gulp were the sum total of his expressive reply.

Sora followed him to the door as he left the shop, gently clutching the roses in his arms. This was a man who wouldn't prick his finger on a rose. He might be clumsy, but never careless or disrespectful. Somewhere in this city resided a very fortunate woman. Sora gave a silent prayer for her, that she'd have the understanding to acknowledge her blessing, and appreciate it.

Sora's thoughts came to an abrupt end as a different, more familiar brown haired young man appeared around a street corner. He was dressed as a businessman, tan slacks, white dress shirt and gold tie. Even from a distance, she could see the twinkle of his mischievous, fun-loving eyes and the broad, almost demented grin that proclaimed his carefree attitude. And he was skipping.

A soft smile pulled at the corners of her lips. No matter how low she might feel, somehow her childhood friend always came up with a way to cheer her, whether he meant to or not. Without yet saying a single word, Taichi had already lifted her heart back to its proper place. She laughed aloud as he reached the steps of the shop and came to a bouncy, yet graceful halt.

Taichi's eyes flashed upwards at the sweet sound of her laughter. Standing in the doorway stood an angel, the sunlight glinting off her halo of neck-length reddish brown hair, matching the glow from her bright amber eyes. Taichi had known Sora Takanouchi almost as long as he could remember, and no closer friendship could ever be imagined. They'd shared unimaginable hours together, clambering about playground equipment as little tykes, joyfully celebrating soccer victories in middle school, battling evil digimon throughout their adventures in the digital world, and assisting each other through the trails and tribulations of higher education. No one, not even Koushirou or Yamato, or even Hikari knew him as well as the slim redhead at the top of the steps.

Taichi recognized the upwelling of feeling that surged through his consciousness and acted with a quickness born of longstanding habit. Mustering a tight control of his features, he allowed only a warm, familiar smile to crease his face+. Not the true, expressive smile that he must forcibly crush whenever it surfaced. That smile was anathema, off limits before the girl standing at the top of the stairs. She was far too perceptive not to understand what such a smile expressed.

Only Taichi's other best friend could extend such a smile to Sora. Yamato Ishida, the luckiest young man in the world. The two had been dating for near three years now, and Taichi knew that no couple could be happier together.

For almost four years now, Taichi had stood by and watched, spending as much precious time with both as he could. He was happy for both of them, but still, his heart ached to smile, just once. His smile had to remain covered, he would never be her love. But he found consolation in knowing he would always be her support, their support, the one to always brighten their day. That would have to be enough for him.

Looking at her beautiful face now he noted that she was smiling, but he could tell instinctively that this hadn't been the case not long ago. He would have frowned at this realization had she not been looking directly into his face. He would have to look into this, once he'd sounded her out a little. For now he stowed the knowledge away in his mind and grinned as she addressed him, her nose turned up in mock distaste. "Skipping Taichi? It really isn't dignified. Especially for a businessman as well dressed as yourself."

"Well dressed, hell, dress cloths are the devil. Anything that restricts athletic activities should be burned."

Sora laughed at Taichi's amusing antics. "Athletics? Like skipping?"

"Of course, great exercise for the lower body, and it builds endurance like magic. Want to try?" Taichi shot her a cheeky grin.

Much to Sora's surprise, the invitation actually appeared attractive for a brief moment before her good sense kicked in. Maybe she was picking up whatever madness Taichi had been born with. Instead, she shook her head and beckoned him into the store with a cheerful smile.

Taichi briefly pondered suggesting that they remain outside in the late afternoon sun, but relented. The shop's large bay windows admitted nearly as much illumination as the front steps, and Sora was still working, at least until the shop closed at eight. And according to his watch, it was currently six thirty. So he followed her beckoning smile, happy just to be in her presence.

The aromatic fragrance of a thousand blossoms pervaded his senses as he made his way to the back of the shop, past row after multi hued row on display. The scent had taken some time for Taichi to get used to; he had rarely entered the shop at all until Sora had begun working for her mother at the beginning of high school. But after spending a myriad of afternoons helping to close up the shop after work, Taichi had come to recognize that the scent held a soothing presence. He actually enjoyed assisting the Takanouchi 's. Sometimes he still stopped by when he knew Sora had time off. Even when she wasn't around, he could still feel her presence amid the flowers. In a way, he had come to associate them with his long time friend.

"What can I help with?"

Sora gestured toward a display of white carnations.

"I still have an order to fill for an engagement party. A dozen bouquets, all wrapped in pink gauze. The client is picking them up first thing tomorrow morning. If you give me a hand, I might get out of here by the time Mom stops in to close up shop. Besides," Here came a devilish smile that Taichi knew meant trouble. "I want to see if the practice you've had in the last few months has had any affect."

She covered her mouth with her hand to stifle a giggle. "If only the guys knew…"

Taichi shot her a nervous glance. "Come on Sora. You promised you'd never tell anyone!"

"But the roses you arranged last time came out beautifully! You should be proud!"

Taichi only shook his head as he reached for a work apron. But inside, his heart was singing.

* * *

­­Toshiko Takanouchi softly let herself in the front door of the closed shop at five past eight, pausing a moment to finger several blossoms prominently arranged by the doorway. Sora had arranged them earlier in the day, displaying an artistic touch that sent a proud thrill through the older woman. Her daughter had advanced beautifully in the floral arts, much further than Mrs. Takanouchi had ever dreamed the once tomboyish girl could have done.

Muffled voices punctuated by cheery laughter resonated from the back of the shop, indicating that Sora had company after hours. A warm smile stole across her face; she was well acquainted with Taichi's customary presence, pleased even. Years of working the shop alone had taught her the value of company, especially company as lively and entertaining as Taichi Yagami. And beyond the welcome companionship, the young man was also a great help, speeding the evening cleanup that accompanied running a business.

Neither of the two young people noticed her standing close to the entrance, shielded from view by a myriad of leafy stems and colored blooms, and Toshiko chose not to interrupt their conversation. But her eyes twinkled as she listened to Taichi regale her daughter with ridiculously exaggerated, work related horror stories, and the happy laughter they elicited from the auburn haired girl.

"Taichi, you're such a baka! He can't be that bad! I mean, you said he's a public relations overseer! How could he have kept _that_ job so long if he's really a demonic troll that collects shrunken heads?"

"It's because he's such a great actor! When you're first introduced, you'd think he was a perfectly nice, reasonable human being. But if you'd look carefully, he carries the gore from his last victim under his fingernails!"

"That's gross, Taichi!"

"I swear! Come and meet him. Shake his hand. You'll see it! I think he used to be an elementary school teacher, but they kicked him out for eating his pupils!"

Toshiko laughed to herself at the verbal sparing match; Taichi coming up with ridiculous scenarios, Sora attempting to rebut them, and Taichi defending his earlier words with even more farfetched illustrations.

"Seriously Taichi, if you hate working there so much, why don't you just quit?"

There was a slight pause before Taichi's voice responded, more seriously than before. "Well, for one thing it pays well. And it's close to home. Besides," The seriousness left his voice in favor of his usual, casual, laughing tone. "it's close to the flower shop. How else would I get better at arranging petunias?"

"Humph… I thought you were going to say you came here to see me."

"But Sora, petunias are important too!"

The sounds of playful scuffling broke out swiftly, carried on for several laughter filled seconds, and ended with a heavy thump and a groan from Taichi.

"Ouch… Alright! Alright! You're more important than petunias, I admit it!"

"Good." Sora's voice held more than a touch of smugness hidden under a serene tone.

_"Those two."_ Mrs. Takanouchi took a step toward the counter. This would be an amusing time to reveal her presence. But before she cleared the intervening flowers, Taichi's voice took on a different tone, one that made her pause mid-stride.

"Sora, when I got here earlier I thought that maybe something had been bothering you." Taichi's voice paused, possibly waiting for sign of confirmation from Sora. But Sora remained silent, so he continued slowly. "And since I've been here, you've acted happy, but it's still bothering you. And you haven't mentioned Yamato once since I got here… What's up?"

Toshiko stood quietly for a brief moment before silently backtracking toward the door. Listening in on Taichi and Sora's friendly banter was one thing, but the conversation appeared to be veering into a more serious, private topic. As silently as she had entered, Mrs. Takenouchi slipped through the shop exit, stopping only to slide the door quietly shut. Outside on the steps, she watched the evening shadows drape themselves across the landscape. A cool evening breeze played gently with her dark brown hair as she reflected on the pair talking within the shop. Their conversation wasn't her business. If Sora wanted to talk to her mother, she would be there to listen. Besides, Toshiko had come to appreciate Taichi's inherent ability to sense anything off about Sora, and his equally uncanny ability to alleviate her troubles.

Such a perfect pair. A pity neither of the two had ever realized how suited they were to each other.

* * *

Taichi waited patiently in the silence that had followed his question, watching as suppressed circumspection replaced Sora's initial reaction of surprise. Neither of the two moved much, only Sora's slender, graceful fingers, as she absently massaged the stem of a faded blossom, newly removed from a pretty woven flower-wreath. Even Mrs. Takenouchi would have been hard pressed to translate that look passing across her daughters features. But through a unique mixture of experience and sheer desire to understand, Taichi found it within himself to decipher her thoughts.

Yes, something was wrong. Yes, she wanted him to help. And yes, Taichi winced interiorly, she was worried that asking for help would be imposing on her friend.

That was something he couldn't stand to see. As a leader, Taichi had often found himself in similar situations, forced to hide from his friends his own pain or indecision, all for the sake of allowing them a feeling of confidence or security. A leader couldn't show weakness, not with so many others counting on his decisions. The strain from continuously shielding one's inner insecurities and doubts could at times become close to unbearable. No one should go through that, should feel so alone, especially not _his_ angel.

"Sora?" Still no response. "I know you don't like passing your troubles off on other people. It makes you feel like you're using them, but that's not true. I'll always be ready to help you out, that's what a friend is for. If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. Just so you know I'm ready to listen when you're ready…"

His voice trailed off as he took a closer look at the girl standing across from him. Her bottom lip was beginning to tremble, distress slowly cracking her attempt at self-discipline. Without thinking, Taichi moved forward and wrapped his arms about her shoulders in a gentle hug, allowing himself release the warmth of his feelings. There was little else he could do, as her shoulders began to shake perceptively. She was weeping silently; he let her cry in his arms.

Slowly, bit by bit, he felt her pull herself back together, mastering her emotions until her sobs began to subside. Taichi waited, letting her gather her strength before smoothly disengaging his arms. "Sora, what happened with you and Yamato?" He kept his voice soft and quiet, not wanting to betray his own inner turmoil over having held her so close.

"Oh Taichi… I'm, it's really stupid of me, I shouldn't be so worked up about this. We both knew it would be this way when we first started dating, and it's been like this for a long time now, but sometimes it just gets so hard."

Well, her words didn't really answer his question directly, but he could tell where it was going. Still, he remained silent and let her continue.

"We spend so little time together, with me working here at the shop, and Yamato… With the band and everything, he's either at practice, or writing songs or on the road for concerts. We see each other only a few times a month it seems." Her lips were beginning to tremble again, but courageously she pulled her emotions together and continued. "I just don't understand. It's not supposed to be like this. We had such a good thing going, him and me. I thought it would get easier. But it hasn't. Since The Wolves got really popular, he's away even more than usual. I tried not being selfish, but it's hard. Even talking to him on the phone doesn't help anymore. Oh Taichi," she pressed her face into his chest, latching on to her long-time friend and comforter.

"Shhh, it's alright." He whispered softly to her, left hand holding her close, right hand gently stroking her beautiful, silken hair. Understanding and commiseration softened his eyes, adding to the natural tenderness of his words of comfort.

"You're not selfish Sora. Anyone who thought you were would have to be a moron. It's natural to want the people you love close, where you can feel them and cherish there presence." Taichi felt his own words burning his soul out as he spoke them. She was so close, so much a part of him just now. He could feel it. Oh god, it would be so easy. Everything he ever wanted. Just one sentence, spoken now, at this moment… He let the moment pass. "Sora, selfishness would be acting clingy, suffocating Yamato with possessiveness, keeping him from his own happiness so that you could have yours. You aren't like that. The fact that you've stuck with him, despite the time apart; that you sacrifice so much for him, that's real love Sora. It's who you are."

It hurt so bad, letting her go, unclasping her arms from his. Every fiber of his soul screamed for the moment to last forever, to step beyond the carefully kept rules of friendship that Taichi had stood by for so long. But he could stomach the pain. Yamato was a good man, one of Taichi's best friends. The blonde haired musician adored Sora, had proved his love more times than Taichi could count. No matter what, Taichi couldn't betray him like that. And neither could he take advantage of this precious moment with Sora, or her vulnerability.

Sora was quiet once again, thinking over his words, finding strength and truth in them. The slow, clear beginnings of a smile crept softly across her face. She leaned in, close to his face, and gently placed a kiss upon his cheek. "Thank you, Taichi."

Taichi felt his heart glow.

"Come on," he hadn't wanted to speak, but it was necessary to change the atmosphere, change the topic of conversation, anything, just to take away this easily exploitable moment before he lost his self-control, "let's go wait on the steps. Your mom should be here any minute, and everything is cleaned. We'll just lock up when she gets here, and I'll walk you home."

She nodded, the soft smile still tugging gently at his heart. They walked together toward the exit, Taichi holding open the door, letting her pass through its portal first…

…right into a blonde young man who'd just reached the top of the steps.

"Sora? Taichi?" There was a surprised note in Yamato's normally cool, fluid voice. Taichi and Sora halted in their tracks, equally surprised at finding the destined of Friendship on the front steps of the flower shop.

Taichi's pulse quickened immensely, the depth and intensity of his conflicting emotions still latched tightly to his heart. He had been very close… but he had done the right thing. Sora's reaction to her boyfriends appearance proved it. "Yamato! I didn't know you were back in town! Why didn't you call?" Her face was transfigured, bright and beautiful and happy. _"Just as it should be,"_ Taichi though to himself. It was time to go.

Neither of his two best friends noticed as he slipped away from the scene, quietly fading away in the gathering twilight, his ears burning at the tender sounds of greeting from the happy couple. Only Toshiko Takenouchi witnessed his departure, catching a glimpse of his face as he passed her parked car. She had always read his face well when he had been younger. Now with his back to his two best friends, and without knowledge of Toshiko's presence, he had no reason to hide; every aspect of his love and sadness and courage shone out in his expression.

The night would be a dark one, save the warm glow he felt when he thought of the happiness he'd helped her regain. _"It will be enough."_

* * *

The best aspect of takeout dinners was the relative lack of cleanup involved afterward. A casual flick of the wrist and the white cardboard carton landed neatly in the trash receptacle, quickly followed by a cheap pair of disposable chopsticks. Little effort involved, satisfaction for his once grumbling stomach, and best of all, it hadn't been cooked by his mother. Yes, Taichi decided, takeout was definitely the way to go.

Hikari and his parents had already retired to their rooms for the night, leaving the apartment silent save for the soft padding of his own bare feet on the kitchen tile. Work started earlier tomorrow than it had today; he had to be in the office at seven instead of nine. Which meant a six A.M. wakeup for the second day in a row, this time out of necessity, not dream induced. And the night was passing quickly. But still Taichi hesitated, reluctant to retreat to the comfort of his bed. He stepped to the empty sink to gaze through the glass pane upon the Odaiba skyline.

Outside the window the deep shades of night competed with the city lights in an uneven contest. The night settled over the world, an enormously thick, intense shadow, and the manmade illumination of electric and neon lights wavered fragilely, insignificant in comparison. When the final light switched off in his family's apartment, Taichi felt sure that the struggle would weigh even heavier in the darkness' favor.

Why did the light always stand endangered by the darkness, ever threatened by the encroaching shadows? Even in times of peace like these last four years, with the evil forces defeated and scattered, banished from the digital world and held at bay by the powers of light, Taichi still felt that light held only a tenuous advantage, symbolized aptly by the nightscape before his eyes.

Why did his heart feel heavy tonight, like a man traveling a much beloved hometown to bid farewell to loved ones?

The cell phone in his pocket startled him out of his thoughts with a quick, pulsing vibration. He had deactivated the ring tone earlier when his family had gone to bed. He fumbled about for a moment, trying to pull the device from his pocket, then glanced at the screen.

Yamato Ishida.

Taichi stared at the name in surprise, wondering why his friend would choose this time to call. He hadn't seemed in the mood for phone conversations when they'd seen each other a few hours ago. He'd hardly acknowledged Taichi's existence. He and Sora had probably talked…

The phone continued to vibrate, like a small hypothermic animal. _"Well, you going to answer, Taichi?."_

He crossed his fingers a second before thumbing the cell on.

"Hey Yamato, what's up?"

There was a slight pause on the other end before Yamato's low-keyed voice responded.

"Hi Taichi, I thought for a moment that you'd turned in already. Sorry if I woke you."

Was it just his imagination, or did the usually confident Yamato sound rather hesitant?

"Naw, just finished eating. What can I do for you?"

A quiet chuckle emanated from the line. "Eating, eh? Why am I not surprised?"

Taichi gave a snort of annoyance. So much for the supposed hesitancy. "If that's all you called for Ishida, I'll be hanging up now."

"Now hold on, I was just kidding."

Taichi grunted. _"Right…"_

"Look, I called to say thank you."

Taichi's brown eyes widened in confusion. This was definitely not expected.

"For what?"

"For talking to Sora, spending time with her." Taichi involuntarily blinked. Not a single response came to mind, so he kept quiet while his friend continued. "I stopped at her apartment ready for the first degree, I deserved it, blowing her off like that. But whatever you talked to her about… I don't know, I wasn't expecting her to be so, you know, understanding. And I was all ready to justify things, but her being like that, it helped me realize I was wrong. I don't know how things are going to go in the future, but I'm going to do better. Whatever we decide, we'll be honest with each other. I'm going to talk to my manager about adjusting my work schedule. And me and Sora, we're going to talk, a lot more. Just, thanks man, for being there, for both of us."

It still hurt. Sora was still Yamato's. But she would be happy, and Yamato would be happy. So he would be happy, too. Even still, here in the immaculately cleaned kitchen of the Yagami apartment, there was no reason for Taichi to hide the sadness. For a moment Taichi thought his voice would fail, but with a soul wrenching effort he spoke quietly into the receiver.

"It's alright Yamato. You two are my best friends in this world. I'm glad I could help." He forced a chuckle; it almost died somewhere between his stomach and tonsils, but somehow pulled through. "Mr. Chick-Magnet-Rock-Star-God can't solve a simple communication problem with his girlfriend. You're hopeless."

"Yeah well, that's what you're for, fearless leader."

Right, that's what he was best at.

"Alright man, I got to head to bed. Take care of yourself."

"You too, Taichi. We need to take a night off and hang out, just the two of us. It's been too long."

"Will do." A thought occurred to Taichi as he was about to hang up. "Oh, Yamato. One of us has to do something about that brother of yours. If he doesn't get a move on Hikari's going to give up on him. And I'm not joking. She was pretty down this morning, and I really hate seeing her like that."

Taichi could almost hear the wheels turning within the older brother's head.

"Right. I'll talk to him. We'll work something out."

Another problem solved. God, this was getting to be a reoccurring theme to his life.

"Thanks Yamato. Take care."

"Same to you, Taichi."

A pleasant sounding woman's voice spoke in his ear, indicating in lucid terms that the other party had disconnected. Taichi continued to stand staring out the window with the phone to his ear, musing over the feeling that swirled through his tired mind. He had done a good thing, even if it hurt. Taichi straightened his shoulders slowly, letting out the breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding in. It was time for bed.

Maybe it was just his imagination, but outside the darkness didn't seem quite so threatening. And the lights, maybe they weren't quite as fragile as he had thought. Or maybe what he had done added to their intensity.


	2. Chapter II:The Opening Notes

**Chapter II: The Opening Notes**

Blood pounded through his temples with a rhythmic palpitation, far outpacing the tempo of his ragged breathing, which had by now receded into uneven gasps. His lungs burned like he'd swallowed a Meramon whole. Every trim, well defined muscle in his lean frame screamed out in protest against the buildup of lactic acid in his body, a product of the unceasing effort he demanded from his flesh. He'd been running flat out for close to three hours; nearly a full marathon of paved sidewalk had sped by under his pounding gait. And at the speed he'd traveled, his only too mortal body would be feeling the resulting pain for a week at least. That is, if his muscles didn't unravel and spring through his skin, deserting his body like desperate residents leaping from a burning apartment building: That was an interesting image. He would have grinned if the surplus energy presented itself. But even if he didn't die of exhaustion, it was a good bet that dehydration would kill him soon. It was a wonder he hadn't collapsed into a scorched pile of brittle skin and bones. Sweat saturated every square inch of his clothing, from his white cotton athletic socks to his plain, sky blue t-shirt and black running shorts.

Stubbornly, he shook off thoughts of collapse. _"Keep running."_

But even if he ran till doomsday, it was doubtful Taichi could outpace pursuit from his current opponent.

The world from his dream hadn't faded from his mind as he'd expected. Five days had transpired since that morning, and every detail still stood out starkly in his memory. The mountains, fields and cities. The sea and island of shadow. The courtyard and the fountain… If nothing else, they had only become clearer as time passed. Every morning, though he had slept undisturbed, the dream world came further into focus. Taichi felt as though he'd been branded; the images had been burned into his mind.

Another half mile sped past without pause, his stride eating up the distance at a clip that amazed pedestrians along his route. But Taichi hardly noticed. His attention had been arrested by sudden, inexplicable changes in his surroundings. The metropolis about him seemed to slide out of focus, shifting, sliding away to be replaced by something else not yet visible to his eyes. Shop windows along the road had begun to darken, the sun no longer reflected off their glassy surfaces, their merchandise blurring and fading. The cracks in the sidewalk beneath his feet widened and split further. Heaps of masonry…

_"What?"_

Darkness descended in a heartbeat. The cars and pedestrians had vanished into the midnight shadows.

Taichi froze, legs nearly crumpling by the abrupt halt in momentum. The shock numbed his brain, leaving nothing for his faltering consciousness to grasp. He felt like a blind man thrust forcibly into an unfamiliar, dangerous territory. This wasn't Odaiba anymore. The ruined city loomed about his head as he remembered it, eerily expectant, waiting. And far too real.

"No." His voice sounded hoarse and insignificant, even in the sudden silence of undisturbed rock. "I can't be dreaming. I was running for crying out loud! How could I be back!?"

Every part of his body still ached from his run. His heart still pounded madly from the exertion. His clothing hung damply from his body, proof that his workout had been real, had happened bare moments ago.

_It had caught up to him._

"No!" With a shout of horror, Taichi lurched forward, quickly breaking into a sprint. Now cracked stonework sped under his feet instead of concrete sidewalk, blank walls of imposing granite blurred with his speed instead of shop windows, he dodged chunks of broken masonry instead of pedestrians. Which was real and which was the dream, ? the city of Odaiba or the city of stone ruins?

The darkness was tangible, a thin coating on his skin that clung heavily, choking him. It touched at his very soul. He needed light, any kind of light. Sunlight, streetlight, moonlight, the light of warmth in the eyes of a friend…

Before his eyes, as if in response to his silent plea, figures appeared, the familiar figures from his dream. The old man with the mustache. The teenage boy with the scar. The saffron haired girl. The grim-eyed young man. The girl who looked like Hikari. Their eyes held light, called out to him. Familiar, kind, warm, alive. Taichi's hands reached out as he ran, desperately searching for a solid form to grasp. Unseen in his frantic haste, a courtyard accessible by stone steps loomed before him.

Without thought, without notice, Taichi sprang out into space over the steps, feet descending to the stone courtyard with a jarring impact which almost sent him careening out of control into a pile of spilled masonry. But his legs held, recovering swiftly. He kept running.

They were there, right before his eyes, right before his outstretched hands.

_"I need you."_ The words came to his mind unbidden, but in undisputable truthfulness.

As one, the figures extended their hands, reaching out to him. A realization forced its way into Taichi's mind, past the shattered fragments of rational thought left to him. They needed him, too. His fingers brushed those of the girl with short black hair, the one that looked like his sister; soft, warm, sensual- he could feel the gentle pulse of life running through her veins- a living being, as real as himself. The recognition flashed upon him like thunder, simultaneous with a shuddering, smashing sensation as his lower body crashed full force into the sill of the fountain. Time slowed to a crawl. The inky black water surged up to meet him. His hand slid forward along the girls fingers and clasped her small, soft hand in his. When his body struck the water he only smiled, gently pressing the hand held within his own. And faded…

* * *

"Hold on son! We got help on the way! Just hang in there a little longer!" The voice blaring through the fog sounded urgent to him, like it was trying to communicate something important. The problem, Taichi reflected, was that the voice was making absolutely no sense. "We got paramedics on the way, just hold on!"

_"Hold on to what?" _ There wasn't anything to hold on to in this dense fog. He was alone in a creamy white zone of silence… except that annoying voice. It was depriving him of this blissful feeling of peace.

_"I wish you'd shut up, you stupid disembodied nuisance."_

But the voice failed to comply. "Damn it! I don't think he's breathing! Does anyone know CPR!?"

_"CPR? What is this, some visually-lacking medical soap opera?" _Taichi would have shaken his head in exasperation had he been sure his head still existed, or any part of his body for that matter. It was hard to tell. Maybe _he_ was the disembodied one. After all, he had faded…

Like water thundering down from a broken dam everything rushed back to him. The dream had returned, claiming him while completely awake and active. The familiar people had appeared in the midst of the darkness, he had recognized their faces, felt the soft touch of the dark haired girl's hand, touched the pool and faded again.

The mist cleared away from his vision as if expelled by a sudden gust of wind. Taichi's brown eyes snapped open, taking in the bright blue sky far above his head. A stable, rough surface pressed solidly against his back. He was lying on the ground. His senses were returned to him; Taichi suddenly realized that his knees and elbows were burning, and his head was beginning to ache with a slow, throbbing pain. Looming above him stood three men, faces tense and anxious.

"What happened?"

At the sound of his voice the tense looks relaxed from their faces; the youngest of the three raised a hand to his brow to wipe away beads of perspiration. Taichi attempted to rise slowly, but one of the three, a middle aged man in a tan business suit, gently pushed him back down to the pavement, speaking softly to him as he did so. "Hold on there son," Taichi recognized the annoying, disembodied voice. "You had a nasty tumble just now when you passed out. You might have hit your head, I couldn't tell from the angle. Just sit still till the paramedics arrive to check you out."

Taichi blinked. "I passed out?" In all his years of running he had never once passed out before. That was something that _never_ happened to Taichi Yagami. Ever. It hurt his pride just thinking about it. Again he made an effort to rise, this time reaching a sitting position, but a sudden lightheadedness washed over him, causing him to sway slightly. Tan Suit reached forward quickly and again pressed him back unto the sidewalk. "No, just wait." Taichi sighed in exasperation, but this time he lay back quietly and refrained from movement.

Wailing cry of sirens sounded faintly in the distance, gaining in pitch and volume as the ambulance approached. Taichi quietly stared out into the cloudless sky past the three men bending over him and the surrounding rooftops, reflecting upon his sudden transportation. If the dream had become evermore real in the days since it's first manifestation, now it had become shockingly concrete. He _had _held the dark haired girl's hand, he was sure of it. The soft touch of her skin had been far too tangible; he could no longer attribute the experience to a simple product of his mind. Either something was seriously wrong with him, which, he thought wryly, could very well be the case, or his dreams weren't dreams at all. And if his dreams were real… then so were the people in them, including the dark haired girl.

"What're you so happy about, kid?"

With a start, Taichi refocused on his surroundings. The younger of the three men was staring down at him with a concerned look painted vividly across his face. Taichi returned the look with a confused one of his own, not really sure what the man was talking about.

"What?"

Young guy sat back cautiously on his haunches, still gazing at Taichi with his odd expression. He tilted his head to the side for a moment before answering. "You were grinning, like a man who just won the lottery or something. Sure you didn't hit your head?" He turned his own head nervously, glancing down the street before giving a sigh of relief. The ambulance had turned a corner, closing in on the group clustered around Taichi.

Taichi hardly noticed; he found the young man's words bewildering. _"Smiling?"_ He raised a hand to his face in disbelief, tempted to check tactilely what he'd just been told. _"I was smiling?"_ But the disbelief didn't really hold, even if it made little sense intellectually. If he remembered correctly, hadn't he also smiled earlier, bizarrely, just as he hit the pool of water, holding tight to the hand of a girl he didn't know, but who needed him?

_"And I needed her and the others, too."_

No one noticed the distance which slowly leaked into Taichi's eyes. But even if they had, none of them would have realized just how far he was from the cold concrete sidewalk and the anxious faces of the onlookers.

* * *

Taichi's face was peaceful in sleep, open and inoffensive as a young child… and frighteningly vulnerable. Hikari watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest under the covers, noting how strands of his longish, chocolate brown hair, fallen forward on his brow, stirred faintly under the influence of his breath. He looked so different. The solid facade of strength and determination and confidence that composed his "leader's face" had slipped away as he slept, leaving someone else in his place. A stranger lay there upon the bed, not her brother.

The soft click as the door opened diverted her attention from the figure on the bed. She swiveled in her chair, waiting quietly as her mother entered the room, treading lightly lest she wake her son. "Hikari, you know that you don't need to stay here all day. The doctor said Taichi will be fine, with a little rest. He just overextended himself today, that's all. There's no danger." Yuuko smiled warmly at her daughter, glad to see how much concern she had for her brother, but knowing how unnecessary it was. "Besides, Takeru has been waiting out there in the living room for so long now." She gave her daughter a knowing wink.

"I'll be right there, mom. I just want to be sure he's fine."

"Alright dear, I'll tell Takeru you'll be out in a moment." She turned and left Taichi's bedroom just as silently as she had entered, leaving Hikari alone with her sleeping brother.

Hikari turned back to the stranger on the bed. "Why can't she see that something's wrong?" Her voice was a whisper, barely perceptible, even in the silent room.

For several days now, Hikari had suspected that Taichi was hiding something from her, some trouble or pain that she couldn't identify. Every once in a while it would happen; she would catch him off guard, a flash of weariness in his eyes, a tenseness in his hands, maybe even traces of apprehension in the set of his face. Little hints, here and there, hardly enough for most people to notice. But Hikari wasn't most people, she was Taichi's sister. She should have put the pieces together, figured it out.

Those hints were gone now, smoothed from his face as if they had never existed. Right now, Hikari would almost have welcomed them back; at least they would have given her something to work with, something to indicate that her brother could be helped. But they had gone, and with them the attributes that indicated that this was really Taichi.

It had been worse earlier, back at the hospital where she had tasted sweet relief, only to have it shocked out of her grasp. Hikari and Takeru had raced along the waxed linoleum floors of the hospital, ignoring the shouts of an orderly who took umbrage at their haste. Apparently, running was discouraged at medical facilities. But breaking a hospital rule mattered little to either teenagers; their anxiety overruled whatever respect might have been due to the institution. Mrs. Yagami had met them in the simply furnished waiting room with a bright smile, providing Hikari with reassurance even before the words were spoken. Taichi would be fine; the doctors had given him a clean bill of health, minus a severe spell of exhaustion.

Takeru had embraced her ecstatically, in his overwhelming relief not caring that the older Yagami woman hadn't yet been given the news about their relationship, and immediately left the room to contact the others with the good news. Yuuko had been surprised at the gesture, but quickly caught on to its implied meaning, proud that her daughter had finally hooked the Takashi boy. Then she quickly ushered Hikari into the recovery room to see her brother.

Taichi had been facing away from the door, laying so still Hikari had felt a shiver down her spine despite her mother's words of reassurance. Yuuko had called to her son, her voice cheerful and happy now that she knew he would be fine, and Taichi had slowly turned to face his family. That's when Hikari's heart had plummeted in her chest.

Staring back at her was a face of completely detached calm, as frightening as it was unnatural. The distance in his eyes had stricken her to silence.

It had been hard, keeping her face animated and unconcerned in front of her mother, who obviously felt none of the alarm that oppressed her daughter's heart. Taichi had explained what had happened, cracking self-deprecating jokes about being an idiot, filling them in about his run, waking up surrounded by anxious strangers, and the ride to the hospital. But Hikari hadn't been listening. She was searching his face intently, desperately probing for the usual spark of light in his now distant eyes. Instead, all she could see was the haze of eternity.

Then Takeru had entered the room, stride and face as carefree as her own had been. She heard his footsteps falter; a puzzled look replacing the carefree, swiftly morphing into concealed uneasiness and disquiet. He shot her a questioning look, saw the fear in her eyes, and quickly grasped her hand. No words were needed; Takeru saw just as clearly as Hikari. This wasn't the Taichi they knew. He hadn't even noticed them holding hands…

"What happened to you, Taichi?" Hikari addressed the sleeping boy, half expecting him to rise yawning from the covers. But there was no reply from the still form. Tears rebelliously threatened to overwhelm her restraint, two actually succeeding before her emotions lost to her self-control. Taichi wouldn't want her to cry, he'd want her to be strong. But at this moment, gazing down upon the face on the pillow, nothing would have been more natural for her to do.

Hikari departed the room, pausing to look back and listen to the regular rise and fall of breathing. Softly, she closed the bedroom door, leaving him to his rest, praying that the brother she knew would appear at his awakening, not the calm, distant stranger she had seen at the hospital, or the sweet, defenseless and yet equally distant child sleeping now.

"Hikari?" Takeru glanced up at her from the couch, his perceptive blue eyes silently noting the slight dampness left by the tears. "How is he?"

"Sleeping peacefully now." She sat down next to him, glad to feel his warm touch as he took her hand in his. She had been so happy earlier today, before the call came from the hospital.

The cheerful noise of rattling crockery emanated from the kitchen, belying the gloom that settled thickly around the couple holding hands on the couch. Takeru shook his head ruefully at the contrast. But the heavy atmosphere was completely understandable. The leader of the digidestined had never looked so vacant, so far gone inside. Never. Taichi, more than anyone else Takeru knew, exuded an impression of vitality; strong, alive and real. He was firmly attached to life and his surroundings. But now… "Hikari? What do you think happened to him."

"I don't know." She released Takeru's hands, pulling herself closer to his chest, letting his arms wrap around her. Comfort. Reassurance. Strength. Everything she had received from her brother for so long.

Takeru felt her heart beating softly close to his own, in time with his own, thankful that he could be her support, yet angry for the reason she needed it. _"Nobody else can see it. The doctor, the nurses, even Mrs. Yagami, they only see the physical. Taichi might be fine that way, but we both know he's not. Something is wrong, we can both feel it. He's… Damn, what is it? Why can't I put my finger on it? It's like he's missing, even while he's laying right there in his room."_

And Takeru had already called everyone, told them that Taichi was fine. _"I'll need to call them again, tell them I was wrong the first time."_

"What are you thinking, Takeru?" Hikari was looking into his eyes intently.

"I think I'll call some of the others, let them know what's up. So far we're the only ones who can tell that not everything is right with him. If the other destined can feel it too, that might be an indication that this has to do with the digital world." After a pause he went on. "And if some of them can't see it either… maybe it has something to do with the Darkness, the Dark Ocean."

Hikari's auburn eyes dilated, fear and loathing surfacing reflexively. Takeru felt the same, though his face remained calm and thoughtful. They had both been to that place before, both clearly understood the depth of the threat which it symbolized. Besides Ken, no one else had experienced the Hope-sucking, all embracing darkness which resided there.

Takeru held her closer to him. _"Thank goodness I was with Hikari when the call came. She needed someone with her; it would have been too much to see him like that alone. Taichi wouldn't have wanted her alone. I'll have to thank Yamato again for giving me the push I needed to ask her. Wait…"_

Hikari glanced into his face nervously, unsure at the sudden tenseness she could feel in his body. But his face held the same reassuring smile. She let it pass.

Behind his composed expression, Takeru's mind was racing, remembering Yamato's final words the night before. _"…Just make sure you do, bro. Taichi was pretty clear when he asked me to talk to you. Basically, he said its now or never, with Hikari and with him. I doubt you'll ever have his support again if you back out of this, and that would make things rather complicated for me… and I really hate it when things get complicated, right Takeru?"_

Yamato had said that _Taichi_ wanted him to ask his sister. He had even gone to the trouble of dragging Yamato into the situation. Why had Taichi chosen this week to suddenly apply pressure on his sister's behalf? True, Takeru always had the feeling that Taichi was encouraging him; at least, none of his threats had indicated a death sentence. But still, the timing couldn't have been a coincidence.

During their first adventure in the digital world, back in Machindramon's city when Taichi had left to find medicine for Hikari, he'd placed a charge on the younger boy- _"You're my last line of defense... I need you here to look after the others."_

Ever since that day, Takeru had given his best to live up to that charge, with or without Taichi's presence. She had become the most precious thing in Takeru's young life. Had Taichi known even back then that Light needed Hope to survive, that Hope could support Light through any trial? The last line of defense, Hikari's protector in time of danger. _"Did he know this was coming, that he wouldn't be able to give her the support she would need? Is that why he had Yamato give me that final push?"_ He held her even closer to himself, carefully thinking through his past contact with Taichi, and how it had shaped his relationship with Hikari. _"You wanted this Taichi, almost as much as I did. I don't know if you foresaw this happening, but don't worry. I promised I'd take care of her then, and I'll keep protecting her, now and forever."_

* * *

"How is he?" Hikari noticed how pale Sora looked today, standing outside the apartment with her hands clasped nervously before her. Yamato and Daisuke looked less anxious, although she could only see part of their faces over Sora's shoulder. It wasn't very surprising. Yamato was used to keeping his feelings hidden and Daisuke, well Daisuke probably couldn't understand the full significance of Takeru's message. Unlike some of the other digidestined, he'd never been seriously exposed to the Darkness before. Hikari wasn't aware of it, but the three teenagers standing in the hall were surprised by her own appearance. She looked like she'd slept in her cloths, and it hadn't been a very restful sleep either. Yamato and Sora both found this somewhat foreboding, and wondered what this indicated about Taichi's condition. Hikari motioned them into the apartment and answered Sora's question in a low tone as they removed their shoes. "Nothing's changed. He's still asleep, hasn't woken up since he got home from the hospital yesterday."

"Is that why you're whispering?" Daisuke's question was meant to be completely innocent, but to his surprise, she began to blush a rosy red.

Hikari turned and began walking back to the living room, leading the way for the others. "Well, no… He wouldn't be able to hear us from his room even if he was awake."

"Then why are you whispering? _And _you're blushing now." Yamato shot Daisuke an annoyed look. Sora didn't seem to be listening.

"I mean, I didn't say anything that should have made you blush. I… uh."

Daisuke's speech ended suddenly as he caught sight of a blonde head poking out from under a thick pink comforter on the couch. A white bucket hat lay flattened nearby; a Hikari sized footprint stamped squarely between the brims. Someone hadn't been fully awake when the doorbell had rung, and crushed Takeru's favorite hat in her haste to open the door.

Yamato grinned despite his hidden anxiety for his best friend. "Takeru spent the night, huh?"

Hikari's blush only grew deeper. Daisuke's mouth was hanging open in shock or jealousy. Sora was staring fixedly at Taichi's bedroom door.

"Why don't you all take a seat." Hikari knelt by the couch and gently shook Takeru by the shoulder. Her boyfriend let out a soft groan and opened his eyes. Her face was only inches from his own. Takeru's face split into an adoring smile. _"Such a wonderful way to wake up."_

"Morning beautiful. Did you check on Taichi yet?"

Yamato cleared his throat gruffly. "I don't think she had a chance kiddo, looks like she just woke up herself."

Takeru nearly leapt out of his skin, blushing as hotly as Hikari had been moments before. "Yamato! You're here early. Wait, what time is it?" It took him a moment to notice Daisuke and Sora, but he greeted them as cordially as he could when he did.

His brother struggled momentarily to keep the laughter out of his voice, but just as quickly gave up the attempt. "Definitely time to get up." He then took stock of Takeru's appearance; the same khaki slacks and blue polo he'd been wearing yesterday morning. A perfect match for Hikari's equally wrinkled outfit. They'd both spent the night on the couch, keeping an eye on Taichi. Yamato didn't know whether to laugh at their embarrassment or frown because they had been that worried.

Daisuke attempted to get a comment in, but the words stuck in his throat, resulting in a barely perceptible gulping sound.

Hikari ignored Daisuke, desperately trying to switch the topic. "It's nine A.M., Takeru. Looks like we slept in."

"Yeah." Equally desperate, Takeru began to rise from the couch, voicing the only safe thought that came to mind. "Is Daisuke OK?"

Yamato only shrugged, at this point not really caring about Daisuke's mental state.

"What's wrong with him?" Sora had taken her gaze from the bedroom door to ask the question, the humor of the situation completely lost on her.

"Who? Daisuke?"

"No, Taichi." Her voice trembled noticeably.

Takeru immediately regretted his levity. The situation was far too serious for jokes. "We're not sure."

The room receded into silence, everyone waiting for Takeru to elaborate. Takeru frowned, looking to the child of Light for assistance. Both were struggling hard, striving for words that might clearly elucidate what they had observed about their leader.

"Something in him is fading." Takeru nodded in agreement as Hikari continued. "Physically he's fine, tired, but fine. It's his eyes. Yesterday, it was hard to recognize him. He just wasn't like Taichi at all. It was like he was far away from us."

They did their best, working together to describe their misgivings, the lost feeling their leader radiated. A tight feeling of unease crept into the room. Daisuke began to look distinctively disturbed. Yamato and Sora each felt a familiar tinge of apprehension, echoes of their experience with the darkness slowly rising up in their hearts after so many years.

* * *

It was very peaceful in the garden. Taichi wandered along the stone path as it snaked about the rows of flowers, feeling the tranquility drift about him, mingling with the garden's vivid colors and fragrance. It would be impossible to count the many blossoms; there were thousands of them, of every color and variety, many species that he had never seen before, even during his time working at the flower shop. _"Sora would love this place." _The very atmosphere here soothed his mind, peeling away layers of worry and doubt that had developed within him. He no longer felt that tugging, split feeling of being in the wrong place, or the nagging sense that he was needed elsewhere, that he was letting someone precious down. He was himself, whole and in one place. The relief was wonderful.

Save for the light tread of his steps on the flagstones and the stirring of the breeze not a sound disturbed the silence. He was alone amid the blossoms. How long had he been here, pacing slowly through the rows, imbibing the peace, making it his own? Hours? Days? Months? It could have been eternity for all he cared. This… _this _was right. All that was missing were the faces, the voices. But they would be arriving soon. Then everything would be complete.

The path reached the high brick wall that enclosed the garden, and turned once again, running parallel to the solid edifice. Taichi extended a hand and ran his fingers across the rough surface, inwardly exulting over the _reality _of it, of all his surroundings. The garden, the flowers, the soft breeze, the stone walkway, the brick wall- they were all real. His being here might very well be a dream, but this world was not. It existed, as surely as he did. The question that had plagued his mind since the inception of the dream faded away, answered by the assurance the garden gave. This world was alive, vibrant in its beauty, precious in its uniqueness, open and free and valuable.

But there was a shadow, a faint presence which indicated that not all was well. Somehow, Taichi could feel that everything he saw about him, everything which brought this peace to him, might be in danger. The Light that existed here- in the flowers and stones, in the sun above, in the eyes of the people he sensed existed here- was threatened.

Taichi paused before a row of flowers he didn't recognize. The blossoms were like roses, but larger, with petals ending in spear-like points instead of broad, soft tips. Red, pink, white, gold, blue, each a beautiful work of art. The darkness would obscure these marvels, twist them in its shadow, remove the light from them. The stone of the path would lose its warmth, become only unyielding and hard. The walls would still enclose, but without protecting or adding to the scenery. The people of this world would continue to live, move about, live their lives, but the Light in their eyes would go out. They would lose their individuality, and in the end, lose themselves in the shadow.

All these thoughts filtered through his mind, calmly, slowly, building upon themselves, painting a picture of the future of this world and the choice which had begun to dawn upon him. His first impression of this world had been right, it was very much like his own. And it was just as worthy to be loved and protected.

Taichi gently fingered a blossom of the pointed rose, and smiled.

* * *

"And you can't think of anything else? Nothing has happened these last few days that might account for it?" Yamato was doing his best to understand, but the way Takeru and Hikari were describing the problem had only served to baffle him further. Wearily he rubbed his forehead, a gesture more akin to his father than himself. "Nothing at all?"

Hikari shook her head. "No. I thought maybe the tiredness had something to do with work, but that doesn't explain his eyes."

"You keep talking about his eyes, Hikari, but I don't think we're getting it. It means something more to you. But whatever it is, you definitely see something wrong." Daisuke had finally regained his voice, though it had taken quite some time. Now he was just as confused as Yamato, though trying his hardest to grasp what they were saying.

Takeru shrugged, "You'll have to see yourself. We can't describe it any better than that."

Sora was already on her feet. All throughout Hikari and Takeru's explanation she had felt a steady increase in the impulse that had arisen within her the moment she had received the first phone call about Taichi's collapse- she had to be close to him, close enough to hold on to him, in case... In case of what? She didn't know, just that it was imperative that she be there for the friend who had always been there for her.

"Did somebody die?" No one had heard the bedroom door open. Taichi stood framed in the doorway, wild brown hair pressed into untidy clumps about his head by his pillow. Hikari and Takeru stared at him in wonder, completely focused upon his eyes. Compared to the eyes they'd seen the day before, Taichi's chocolate brown orbs were widely alert, sharp and focused. Nothing like the faded, distant eyes that had worried them previously.

Taichi glanced about from shocked face to shocked face. They all looked like someone really had died, and come to life again. Why had they been so worried? The doctor had given him a clean bill of heath. Nothing to worry about.

The intensity and alarm of the past twenty-four hours had faded from his mind, drowned out by a spirit of well-being and confidence.

_A peaceful time in a place of beauty._

Puzzled and somewhat unsettled by his friend's expressions, he took a moment to check himself. There was nothing wrong with him, but still, they had to have a reason… He felt amazingly alert and clearheaded, ready to tackle whatever came his way. His body felt fine, slightly sore from the workout of the day before, but no sorer than he usually felt after running. And he felt so light and peaceful, like every trouble had fallen away from his shoulders. Even the dream that had oppressed him for the last week failed to penetrate his strong sense of well-being. He could hardly recall why it had affected him so deeply the day before. He felt like a new man. So what was the problem?

His self-analysis had failed, though he had no way of knowing. Checking himself could no longer pick up the lingering clues to the events of the last twenty four hours. Dancing about the periphery of his senses wisped the slight flagrance of blossoms, and the earthy smell of a dewy garden. A holdover from a distant place.

No further time was allowed him to discern these hints. Hikari and his friends had recovered from their surprise.

"Taichi!" Hikari launched herself off the couch and across the living room. "You're alright!" Her hug was surprisingly strong for her petit form, nearly knocking Taichi off his feet. He steadied himself with one hand against the doorframe of his room, stroking her short hair with his other hand as he did so.

"Course I am, Hikari. You heard the doctor, lots of sleep and food. Speaking of which, do we have anything edible? I'm starved."

Takeru waited in the background silently, watching as the older Yagami sibling greeted his friends, feeling puzzled and strangely unsettled. Taichi was himself again, as if the other, distant person had never existed. Looking at him now, it was possible to conclude that nothing had been wrong in the first place. But Takeru had been there at the hospital, and here in the Yagami apartment ever since then. He'd clearly seen that Taichi had not been himself. As much as this should be reassuring, having their leader back to himself again, it didn't sit right. In Takeru's experience, problems didn't resolve themselves this way, this neatly.

Takeru felt himself begin to tense, flooded with an anxiety that he couldn't put aside. But none of the others shared this sense of foreboding.

Hikari was ecstatic, clear oval face shining with joy, clinging to her brother like a limpet. It would take a crowbar to remove her arms from Taichi's neck.

Daisuke looked relieved, and maybe a little put out. He was shooting the younger blonde looks that hinted at suspicion. Takeru could almost hear the wheels turning in his head, slow and squeaky as those wheels might be. Daisuke probably thought Takeru and Hikari had invented the story as an excuse to stay up together on the couch.

Yamato looked genuinely confused. His bright sapphire eyes scrutinized every aspect of Taichi's face and expression, probing, testing, judging. Takeru felt a sense of relief; his brother thought the sudden change odd as well. But then the blue eyes lost their scrutiny, warming and shifting into humor and wry amusement. Yamato had dismissed his anxiety, probably writing it off to a sister's over sensitivity and a new boyfriend's desire to be off service to the said lady.

And Sora… Sora surprised Takeru with her silent reaction. Though she said nothing, her brown-red eyes spoke volumes. They were a deep well of intense and possibly conflicting emotions, burning with a fiery glow Takeru was hard put to identify. Joy? Relief? Realization? Need? It was hard to say. Takeru had known Sora since he was eight years old. She had been a mother figure to him during their first trip to the digital world, a compassionate and responsible girl who looked out for others far more vigilantly than she did for herself. He had thought he'd seen her under every possible state of emotion; nothing about her should have been able to surprise him, or leave him confused. But the way she was looking at Taichi now… was impossible for him to identify. And somehow, Takeru doubted that Sora would be able to identify it herself.

"Takeru?" Takeru started out of his thoughts. Taichi was staring pointedly at the younger boy, clearly having repeated his name already at least once. Daisuke was once again standing slack-jawed, and Hikari was blushing once again.

Takeru spoke rather uncertainly. "Sorry Taichi, I was thinking. What did you say?"

Taichi's smile was the picture of innocence, which meant he was at his most dangerous. "Nothing, just listing off forms of torture saved specifically for little sister's boyfriends if they don't toe the line. Right?"

Takeru nodded nervously, getting the point clear as a bell. Taichi smiled in return, then turned back to Yamato and began talking. Takeru was glad to lose the special attention. _"Maybe he is back to normal."_ But a voice in the back of his head reminded him of the age old maxim- looks can be deceiving.

* * *

To describe emptiness is impossible. No one has seen it, experienced it, or even been capable of imagining it in all its immense vacancy. How could a living creature, born within the flow of time and space, comprehend nothingness? But that is exactly what can be found outside one of the many plains of existence- nothing. Not even the void of space _within_ a plain of existence can compare. For one thing, the voids found within a world have stars and planets to break the black, parts of larger galaxies which are in turn part of the universe as a whole. Outside of these individual universes, existences, there are no luminaries of any kind. There is no light, but neither is there darkness. Both Light and Dark are a part of an existence, which is completely lacking within the great void. It is not good, nor evil, because it _isn't_; there are no qualities or attributes for non-existence.

Within the void suspend the individual worlds, each nested in its own place parallel to those other worlds that exist. They do not intersect, nor do they come any closer or farther from one another than they were intended to, unless the delicate balance is tampered with. It has happened in the forgotten past. None would know, since a world involved with such a catastrophe no longer exists. Just another hole in the void…

But between worlds, passages can be opened, leading from one to another. The myriad of gates between the Human and Digital worlds are examples of this bridging of the void. These two worlds are relatively close, if that term could be used to describe a relationship within emptiness.

Had a watcher been within the void at this moment, he or she would have witnessed the beginning of an inter-world drama. A gate opened between two worlds, one that had not been used for many generations. It arose from a dark world, carrying the whispers of a salty sea breeze and the murmurs of malignant laughter. Out it reached, farther into the void, till it found its destination. A doorway that took the form of a dark fountain, within a city of ruins and shadow, within a world of mountains, cities and lakes… and people.

Darkness began to flow through the gate.

And then, another passage opened, a passage of twisting flame, like a tornado that has careened into a vicious wildfire. It extended outward from a world of blue oceans and green landmasses, a world of humans. Earth.

Midway between the two now-connected worlds, the fiery passage impacted like a burning lance, fusing into the side of the first, opening a way into the gate within which the darkness flowed. Three worlds connected, if only for a short time.

The drama was beginning.

* * *

Taichi froze in his seat, ears alert, listening as the air of the apartment resounded with the echoes of a tremendous crash. The noise rippled through the room, loud but oddly elusive to his ears. There was something ethereal about it, like it lacked the intensity that should have come with the high volume of the sound. It could have originated from a great distance, if it hadn't been so loud. And there was another strange aspect to the sound. The size impact that would be needed to produce such a sound should have caused some sort of physical reaction, a tremor through the frame of the apartment building, maybe a rattle from the windows. But their hadn't even been the slightest tremor. And no one else in the room had reacted to the noise.

Taichi felt his heart rate increased dramatically, as his body began to fill with a sudden, unnamed excitement. His muscles tensed, his perception changed, his body was ready. But for what?

Images of fire and shadow strode across his mind, billowing back to reveal places and faces, familiar yet strange. Attractive. Real.

Taichi's mind was already far away.

The lighthearted conversation died away from the room, leaving an uneasy silence in its place. The others in the room stared in open puzzlement at their friend's sudden pause, wondering as a faraway expression drifted over his face.

"Taichi…" Hikari spoke up tentatively, but trailed off as the atmosphere of the room altered. A sudden buildup of tension rippled through the apartment, palpable to each of the occupants, emanating from their leader as he sat motionless upon the couch, listening…

"Did any of you hear that?" Taichi spoke suddenly, startling his friends with the eerily calm tone his question took. He waited until the others shook their heads uncertainly before continuing. "It sounded like a door being thrown open."

Hikari felt a vein of panic beginning to surface in her heart. She hadn't heard the sound, but a feeling of dread surged up within her, intensified by this strange tension permeating the apartment. His calm voice resonated in her ears like a far off echo. He was already a long distance away. Hikari tried to speak, but no sounds would come from her throat. It felt like she was being choked.

Takeru grasped her hand tightly, his blue eyes wide with apprehension. He had been right. Taichi's normal appearance had been deceptive, hiding the inner change he and Hikari had sensed the day before. Something significant was about to happen, and Takeru had no idea what to do about it.

Sora, Yamato and Daisuke looked uncertainly to their leader and friend, each one unsure of what was happening, but their own bodies began to tense, picking up on the atmosphere of the room. Hikari and Takeru's description from before surfaced readily in their minds. Yamato broke the silence, his voice sounding slow and tentative, feeling out this sudden change in his friend. "Taichi… I didn't hear anything." He looked about to the others for confirmation, receiving their nods of agreement. But Taichi shook his head, slowly, like his will and body were miles apart. "It was a door, I swear it was. A heavy door being thrown open. I heard it grind into the walls, it opened so roughly."

Daisuke had risen partway to his feet, perplexed by his leader's strange words. "But Taichi, there aren't any doors that heavy in the apartment complex."

"Not here, it came from a distance." Taichi shifted his weight on the couch to peer out the window. Outside, the gentle breeze had failed, leaving the streets still and motionless, save for the few cars and pedestrians out enjoying the afternoon sun. The calm outside reflected the calm in Taichi's own voice- not unnatural, but somehow eerie in its own way. There wasn't an obvious reason to call the calm unnatural, it just didn't feel _right._

The sound had come from down the street; he'd heard the echo as the sound traveled, bouncing across from building to building. It was out there, somewhere amid the calm.

Taichi felt it then, even before the calm was shattered by the onset of the wind. Trees outside the window began to flail about in a sudden gust, litter from the ground shot spinning into the sky. The change in the wind was reminiscent of a draft that creeps across a room when a door is left open a crack, but much stronger, fiercer. The air of an alien world was poring into Odaiba.

"The way's open now."

His statement made no sense to the others. They had no way of knowing that Taichi had already come to a decision, while wandering alone through a far away garden. Taichi himself couldn't recall that time of calm reflection, or the decision that had been made within his mind. He only knew that he must act.

_"I'm coming."_

Neither Yamato or Daisuke were ready for what happened next, but Takeru and the two girls in the room caught on to it in the brief milliseconds before Taichi threw himself off the couch and towards the entrance of the apartment.

"Taichi!" Hikari's distressed voice dimly reached his ears as he passed her outstretched hands, eluding her grasp by mere inches. Takeru had surged to his feet alongside Hikari, but her outstretched hands had blocked him from making his own attempt at grasping for her older brother as he passed. She overbalanced, almost fell, but Takeru caught her before she struck the ground. By the time he had set her back on her feet, it was too late for him to do more than comfort her.

Sora too had reached out, suddenly struck with a horrified conviction; if she missed him now, something told her that she would lose him forever. Missing with her fingers, she dug her feet into the carpet, lunging toward the door as Taichi ripped it open.

"No!" Her fingers caught the back of his shirt, a slight tugging of fabric as he slipped from her grasp and disappeared through the door. The sound of pounding footsteps echoed in her ears for a moment, her friend fading away in the distance as she fell to the wooden floor of the empty hall.

Behind her, two thumps sounded out as Yamato and Daisuke, having sprung into action seconds too late to assist, collided with each other and tumbled across the living room rug.

* * *

Ken held the exit door open for Miyako in his best gentlemanly manner, much to her appreciation and delight. Outside, a gentle morning breeze ruffled the white and gold awning that sheltered the entrance, playfully fingered the leafy branches of the trees that lined street, and ruffled the hair of both teens as it slipped through the open door. Miyako sighed, near bursting with excitement and happiness. Her raven haired young man had outdone himself this time. The breakfast date had gone beautifully; a classy restaurant, excellent food, and warm, intimate conversation. And on top of that, Ken had completely failed to notice their pretty young waitress and her persistent attempts to attract his attention. Miyako herself had missed none of it, and secretly gloated over the obvious envy written across the cheap hussy's face.

Outside the restaurant Ken paused to check the time, always conscientious of his own obligations and those of his less conscientious girlfriend. Miyako was supposed to switch shifts with her sister Momoe at the Inoue family store by ten A.M., and according to the timepiece strapped to his wrist it was currently quarter till. Plenty of time to walk the three blocks distance to her destination, at least if they didn't delay much. But Miyako seemed to have other ideas.

She caught his hands gently in her own and wrapped them about her, reminding him a little of a throw rug of some sort. Somewhat forward of her, Ken thought to himself, but then, Daisuke always had teased him about who wore the pants in this relationship.

He stood staring down into Miyako's eyes, watching as bright, warm golden light danced about within her beautiful orbs. A slight blush was just beginning to surface on her cheeks, and her bottom lip softly trembled. Slowly, she tilted her head back, mouth opening slightly, shyly.

Ken could remember few times when he had felt a greater temptation to bolt.

But before the moment could turn awkward, the atmosphere changed perceptively.

The breeze died, leaving the awning above their heads limp and lifeless. A stillness settled across Odaiba, sullen and brooding. The angry calm before the catastrophe. Ken began to feel a hint of alarm touch his mind, light as a piece of velvet draped across bare skin.

Miyako began to feel put out at her boyfriend's delay, till she took a closer look into his eyes and saw the change in his expression. Ken didn't look like that unless something was seriously wrong.

"What's the matter?"

Ken glanced about, careful eyes taking in the surroundings, searching for an unexpected change, a sign of danger, something off that could explain this sudden eerie intuition. Something was about to happen, but… he couldn't pinpoint what it was.

"I don't know. Something's about to happen. It's…"

Then the wind struck.

The powerful gusts whipped through the streets, kicking up dust and debris. Miyako cried out and shielded her face from the onslaught, but Ken hardly reacted. He felt more than just the change in the weather. He felt the underlying change behind it, a penetrating chill that shot up his spine. Somewhere close a gate had opened, exposing a force of Darkness on the move. The Darkness wasn't here, wasn't approaching. But its movements had been made manifest.

For several long minutes, Ken stood amid the windy sidewalk, his mind, over-sensitive to the powers of Darkness, felt each current of shadow flowing between worlds. Miyako stayed silent, listening to the roar of the wind until Ken spoke. "The Dark Ocean is on the move." Miyako could tell from the intensity of his whisper that this was no joke. Even if Ken had been the frivolous kind, his voice would have convinced her that he was completely serious.

"It's coming to Odaiba?"

"No… Somewhere else. But a gate opened nearby. It connects to where the Darkness has targeted. We need to contact the… ah!"

A figure had spun around the corner of the restaurant, moving against the wind as if the powerful blasts had no strength at all. He slammed hard into both teenagers, knocking them back against the front of the building. Miyako gasped in alarm, nearly toppling into the bay windows before her boyfriend caught her by the shoulder. Regaining his balance quickly, Ken released her shoulder and spun about to see the retreating back of a man with wild, windswept brown hair.

The figure continued on down the street, attention focused directly ahead, traveling directly into the wind. He didn't show even the slightest sign of having noticed the collision. He kept on running, running toward the origin of the wind. Towards the flow of the Dark Ocean.

Both teenagers recognized him at the same time. Taichi Yagami, destined of Courage and their leader.

_"And he's running straight towards it." _The realization stopped Ken cold, too shocked at first to do anything. Taichi's frantic haste swiftly brought him to a street corner. He vanished out of sight, leaving the street empty save the two surprised teens and the wind.

Miyako turned back toward her boyfriend, her face contracted in confusion. "Wait, Taichi? Hikari said he collapsed from exhaustion yesterday. What's he doing here?"

There wasn't time to explain. At the speed Taichi had been sprinting he would be long gone in moments. Ken took off at a dead run in the same direction, calling out to Miyako as he did so. "Call Hikari and the others, tell them Taichi's heading south, towards the park! Follow the signal from my D3, I'll try to keep up with him!"

Miyako watched as her boyfriend too disappeared around the corner, chasing after a leader who to all appearances had lost it. She shook her head solemnly. Maybe Ken had lost it too. He was running like crazy too now. But even so… she reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone, quickly dialing the well know number of Hikari Yagami.

* * *

Personally, I think this chapter is nowhere near as acceptable as the first one. *Sighs dramatically* But honestly, I couldn't get it any better, as much as I tried. Better writing in the next chapter, I promise. Chapter Three might be a little longer in coming. I've got one hell of a busy month coming up, but I'll use what time I can spend working on it. Any reviews or thoughts or criticisms are completely welcome... Actually, they are more than welcome. They might decide whether the next update happens before the end of January or not. We'll see. Peace out.


	3. Chapter III: Call It Courage

**Chapter III: Call It Courage**

"The sacrifice which causes sorrow to the doer of the sacrifice is no sacrifice. Real sacrifice lightens the mind of the doer and gives him a sense of peace and joy."

- Mahatma Gandhi

* * *

"Will somebody please explain to me what the hell just happened!?" Daisuke's voice hit a surprisingly high pitch, too high for comfort within the tight confines of Yamato's small, black Toyota Corolla. Yamato winced; Daisuke was sitting forward in the back seat, directly behind the driver's seat, mouth only inches from the older boy's ear. It was the third time he'd repeated the question since Taichi's sudden departure, and Yamato's already troubled mind had had enough.

"Daisuke! Shut up and sit back! No one can answer your stupid question because no one knows the answer! Now just, shut up and let me think or so help me, I will choke the living daylights out of you!" That being said, Yamato sat back in his seat and inserted the key into the ignition. The car roared to life, a slight vibration rattled through the steering wheel around which his left hand was clasped tensely.

In the rearview mirror, he could see Hikari and Takeru's faces, both as tight and pale as his own had become. There were soft tears glistening in the corners of her auburn eyes. Hikari was crying, though so softly no one but Takeru could tell. What they had feared, and somehow felt was coming had indeed occurred. Yamato understood them now, couldn't even try to doubt the seriousness of the situation. _"What the hell did just happen?" _His mind voiced the same question that he'd just smashed Daisuke for asking. But still, even if the question couldn't be answered for now…

As he put the car into reverse and screeched out of the parking garage, he glanced to Sora beside him in the front passenger seat. She was pale, like everyone else… but maybe even more so. She hadn't spoken since the apartment, just hurried along with the others with a stricken expression plastered across her pretty features. She looked like the world was ending about her.

Yamato slumped into the soft upholstery of the drivers seat and unconsciously lightened the pressure on the accelerator. This wasn't right; they shouldn't be reacting this way. It was time to _act_, not sit here letting the situation spiral out of control. Someone had to take charge and start rallying the others if they were to have a chance at solving this bizarre crisis. Everyone had to have their heads on straight. Usually this would be Taichi, but since all the trouble centered on their absent leader, it was up to Yamato.

"Alright guys," He craned his neck around to see the others. The three destined in the back seat responded to his words, were giving him their full attention. It was harder to tell with Sora, but he continued. "I need you to start calling the others. Tell them its urgent, cancel anything else. Tell them what they need to know, but make it as quick as you can. Takeru, you call Koushiro, have him contact Gennai first and see if anything is wrong with the Digital World. That might give us a clue as to what's going on. Hikari, call Joe, we'll probably need him once we find Taichi. Daisuke, you call Cody. Sora… Sora!"

He couldn't tell if she was listening. Her head was turned aside, bright auburn hair shielding her face from his eyes. She wasn't responding to his words. Gently he reached out and grasped her shoulder. "Hey, Sora, talk to me. I need you to listen. We all have to be _here _for this. What is it?"

He felt her trembling. "Sora?"

Before he could say anything else, a cell phone went off in the car. Hikari dove into her white handbag and retrieved her phone. "Hello?… Miyoko? Miyoko, I'm glad you called! We've got an emergency, Taichi just… What? You saw him?…"

The others were listening with bated breath, only one side of the conversation comprehensible. Daisuke looked to be on the point of snatching the phone in impatience. "Where?…" A much longer pause. When Hikari spoke again, her voice sounded small and frightened, much more so than previously. "Was he sure?… Alright, I'll tell the others and we'll be there soon, stay in touch."

She hung up the phone. Yamato did his best to stay on the road and still look the younger Yagami in the eye through the rearview mirror. Everyone was silent, waiting for Hikari to fill them in. "Ken and Miyoko saw Taichi uptown. Ken's following him, their heading towards the park."

Yamato began to smile. Finally, things were coming together. But the smile was short-lived. "Ken said that a gate opened somewhere near the park. He could feel the Dark Ocean through it. He thinks that's where Taichi is heading."

The silence in the car was unbearable. No one seemed capable of movement. Hikari's words had stolen the ability to move from everyone. _"The Dark Ocean…"_

Yamato jerked himself forward in his seat and punched the accelerator with his foot grimly. At least they knew where to go now… "Start making the phone calls!" They were still frozen. Yamato felt anger pulling at the corners of his mind. This wasn't like them; they were Destined for crying out loud! "Now guys! Make the damn calls now!"

They complied… Takeru, Hikari, Daisuke… Sora?

Sora still hadn't moved. For a second time since entering the car he reached for his girlfriend's shoulder and gave her a shake, this time less gently. When she finally turned her face to him the quiet desperation in her eyes nearly floored him. It was echoed clearly in her voice. "Yamato, I'm scared. I can't lose him! _We_ can't lose him! We need him far too much for him to leave us! I…" Her eyes were so distraught. It would have broken Yamato's heart to see his usually so strong girlfriend in such a state. But for now the situation was too critical for him to completely understand the depth of feeling in her words.

"Sora, we're not going to lose him! We're going to find him and bring him back. Then we're going to figure out what's going on! You sound like he's already lost, but he's not! He needs us to be there for him right now!"

"_Or maybe she's right, maybe it's us who need him?"_

It was ridiculous. He had begun to think as if he really thought that they could lose their best friend. Something was wrong, yes, but Taichi was still here, well, out there at least. They would find him, find him and fix whatever had gone wrong. Yamato was sure of it. They would get to the bottom of this strange change in their leader.

Except… when he looked into Sora's eyes, that feeling of surety seemed to fade away.

It was all so frustrating. A van in the opposite lane wailed on its horn at the black Corolla, calling Yamato's attention once more back to the road. In the back seats, he could hear quick, terse conversations starting. But still not in the front seat. _"Sora!?"_

Her voice sent chills down his spine. "Yamato, we _can't _lose him!"

* * *

Scout 3rd Class Marin Keal despondently peered into the gloom of Thorsedon's eternally shadowed streets and longed for a warm, cheery fire and a hot drink. He felt chilled, chilled and depressed by three long, tense weeks in the dark, stalking and being stalked by Eastern soldiers amid the ruins on this sun-forsaken island. And, gates of wrath, his time here had only begun! The usual term of service on the island front lasted a full six months. He might as well have been sentenced for life.

Marin shifted slightly, trying to find a comfortable position for his back against a rough chunk of masonry as he clutched his short sword tighter. No sign of any Easterners. The streets were empty, as far as he could see, as was the decrepit city's central courtyard. That was as expected. What really caused him anxiety were the massive, ruinous buildings that overshadowed the open passageways. Who could tell in this place of shadows whether the myriad of gaping apertures and windows concealed the blunt, ugly frame of an enemy crossbow….

Thoughts of that nature made his palms sweaty. It wasn't as though he was a stranger to war and sudden, violent death. He'd fought with the Lightfoot Company, one of the Western Army's finest, at the 7th battle for Red Glacier, when the Easterners had thrown a whole battalion against the north pass of the Cinder Mountains. That fight had been no simple skirmish, unlike the majority of the border fights during the long years since the war had started. Red Glacier had lived up to its name singularly well that day.

Marin had been proud of his part in that battle, and of course spent endless hours bragging throughout the taverns of Whitespire with his companions. He had every right to boast; he'd played a man's part, killed four Eastern soldiers and survived without a scratch. And it was gratifying to see the townspeople hanging on to his every word…

…But there had always been one or two men, grizzled veterans of a war that had lasted over fifteen years, who held more experience than Marin and his friends could have appreciated. They'd kept their seats at the back of the bar, listening silently without being impressed, nursing their ale or smoking long, black pipes. And always that one word, one name would escape their lips when the youngsters' stories had been told.

_Thorsedon._

Then they would smile, a particular smile only possessed by those who'd been to the island city. It's very grimness spoke volumes that no man could ever articulate with words. The everlasting night fighting in Thorsedon was matched by no other battlefield. And though they'd pretend to the contrary, even the densest of Marin's friends would feel the hairs rise on their necks.

"_Knock it off, Marin."_

He mentally kicked himself for having let his mind wander. Three weeks in the dark had taught him one thing at least- a distracted mind meant one less scout would emerge from the ruins when the squad left this hellhole. Marin had already seen it happen twice. The more recent of the two deaths had occurred the day… or night before last. His name had been Ralf, also Scout 3rd Class, a native of the city Rift, and a decent soldier as far as Marin had seen.

Ralf and Marin had hit it off well on board the boat that had ferried the scouts across the inland sea. Both young men had seen action before, and spent the trip retelling stories of high honor… and discussing Scout 2nd Class Anna Hall, the only female member of an otherwise all male squad, and a beauty at that, in hushed but still ribald terms. Her rank was also higher than either of the two young men…

They'd stuck close after that, both suddenly realizing upon disembarking that their combined experience meant less than nothing in this kind of battlefield. Maybe they would have become fast friends if they had been together longer. But Ralf had been downed by the iron shaft of an Easterner's crossbow bolt while walking point for the squad. They had been farther north, amid a clearing that had once been a terraced garden. Ralf's foot had skittered a piece of debris, an error unforgivable amid Thorsedon's slowly decaying stones.

It had never occurred to Marin that a crossbow, or any other projectile weapon would be effective in the dark, at least not at the ranges that were common here. Having been a Swordsman before, and a new Scout now, he'd never had much experience with marksmanship. Master Scout Baiden, the squads grim, quiet old man, enlightened him and the other first timers soon after Ralf's demise. Soldiers of the Dark, men from both sides who'd been within the city for long periods of time, relied more on sound and a vague second sight than physical eyesight. _"You live long enough, you'll learn."_ Baiden never had looked like a man full of comforting words. But the Master Scout got his point across well to his anxious neophytes- there existed no safety within the Dark. Marin especially took Baiden's words to heart. He intended to be one of those survivors, adaptive, smart, lucky. Someday, he too would be a Soldier of the Dark.

But that was the future. For now, here he crouched, tired and cold and miserably afraid, standing guard outside the west side of a mostly collapsed building, the only accessible entrance at his back and the inky Darkness all about. Within the shaky doorframe and down a broad hall, an oddly intact staircase wound down to a basement, in which his squad-mates rested, shielded from enemy eyes and enemy weapons… and enjoying a warm, cheery fire and hot drinks.

"_Curse_ _words…"_

Why had Baiden chosen him of all his people to stand guard tonight? The Darkness seemed especially oppressive, as if it sensed that men were within the building, attempting to ward off its influence with pitiably small tongues of fire. It pressed inward, softly but powerfully, hungry and malicious…

Or maybe the Dark felt more terrible in his mind, knowing that the light and warmth he so desperately desired resided such a short distance away…

Marin felt something nearly imperceptible, a change in his surroundings or an awareness that he was no longer alone. Nothing had caught his attention, no sounds or movement, nothing he could place his finger on, but still… Cautiously, almost painfully so, he turned his head to his right, straining his eyes to discern what had caught his attention. Still nothing.

By his ear, right from where he'd instinctively looked, a soft, gentle voice spoke in hushed tones. "That's good Scout, you caught on faster than I'd thought you would. Now relax, you don't want to draw any unfriendly attention."

Now that he'd heard her voice, the slim form of Scout 2nd Class Anna Hall seemed to materialize out of the shadows at his elbow. She had her scout's hood pulled back; he could just discern her short, dark hair shielding the rest of her girlish face from sight. Her own short sword lay draped across her lap, close to hand and half out of its sheath. She had been sitting right next to him.

"How long ?"

He could just imagine her grinning at him. "About five minutes. Don't worry, the fact that you even discovered me is good. Most of the other first-timers wouldn't have. We'll make a Darkie out of you for sure."

Marin remained silent, both pleased by her praise and the break in his solitude, and disturbed that she had arrived without his notice. Had she been an Easterner…

"Baiden sent me." After a moment she continued. "You concealed yourself well. It took me a while to find where you were, even though I knew you'd be out here."

He would have asked her just how she had found him, but having offered her final words of praise, Scout Hall ended any further conversation. "No more talking. We've done too much already." Then she faded from his sight like a wisp of mist.

She hadn't moved, he would have noticed had she done so. But she had withdrawn in some other way, blending into the ever-present night in a way he could not identify. It was funny, he thought to himself as he returned to his watch over the vacant streets and courtyard, that such a pretty, high-spirited girl could have such an affinity to the surrounding darkness. On the boat ride over, he would have sworn that she too had never before entered Thorsedon, regardless of her higher rank. But though no one had indicated to the contrary, her ability to blend with the dark and travel without being seen amid the city streets, and her quiet confidence in such tension-building surroundings, made Marin doubt his initial evaluation. She was too good to be a first timer. She too was a Soldier of the Dark.

Marin tilted his head slightly to the left, comfortable now to watch the south and leave the streets to the north to Anna's capable gaze. South meant the sunken courtyard and mausoleum beyond. Anyone coming from that direction would have to access the courtyard by the descending stone steps on either side of the mausoleum, a moment that would leave them exposed and vulnerable for several seconds. Plenty of time to stage a cold reception. For the first time in hours, Marin felt a semblance of control over his circumstances.

Time passed, but without any change in the surroundings Marin found it hard to gauge how long the two of them had been sitting silently. In the distance, the wall of some decrepit building collapsed, echoes of the descending crash reverberating across the streets. Still nothing changed in their immediate area. Marin had begun to wonder just how much longer the Scout Master would wait before sending others to take their place on watch.

Then something did change.

Gradually, so gradually that Marin nearly missed it altogether, the courtyard began to fill with mist. Grey and wraithlike, it rose from a now invisible point within the courtyard, filling the sunken ground like steam from a cauldron. His damp skin felt the cold touch of a breeze, the first movement of air that he could recall experiencing since entering Thorsedon. A slight tang plucked at Marin's nostrils, gathering in intensity as the mist grew denser.

"_A sea breeze?"_

Eyes locked on the fast disappearing courtyard, he broke the silence. "Anna? You want to look at this."

She already was. "I see it. This hasn't… I don't think this has happened before… Stay here, I'm going to get Badin."

Then she was gone, leaving Marin alone, watching the encroaching mist. She had only been gone for seconds when the air became charged with sudden and purposeful expression- malice and glee and a Dark Will. A city finally showing it's true face. All about the city, the shadows began to stir. They rose up in a thick vapor, black and inky, and began to intertwine themselves with the gray sea mist.

The Dark greeting the Dark.

Marin watched in rapt fascination. This was totally different, totally unexpected. The shadows were coming alive. Inanimate, ethereal, physically harmless shadows, suddenly rising up impossibly as if summoned by some evil wizard. He had never thought of the Darkness as something alive…

He rose unsteadily to his feet, legs rubbery and barely functioning as he groped blindly for his sword. This was beyond his capacity. He wasn't a Soldier of the Dark; he was barely a Scout, a novice in a battlefield he wasn't ready for. Why was he the one up here? It should be someone else, like Baiden, or Anna, or one of the other veterans, not him.

With a final pull, his sword came free, but his trembling hands wouldn't hold to the grip. With a dull clatter of metal on rock, it slipped from his clammy fingers and fell. Marin grasped for it like a drowning man grasps at a piece of driftwood. Gates of wrath, he needed to get away!

Forgetting the rest of the squad within the depths of the stone cellar, Marin bolted. Not up the road to the north; that was the area Ralf had died. He couldn't go there. To the south then. If he could reach the stairs, skirt around the side of the courtyard and the swirling Darkness and mist, he could get away. He needed to…

No longer careful to muffle the sounds of his movements, Marin leapt from the shattered masonry and down into the courtyard. The cracked flagstones thundered hollowly under his boots, like a brazen gong. The Easterners had used a gong like that at Red Glacier, to signal retreat, calling back their shattered forces, scuttling away like cowardly swine… The gong was sounding now for Marin.

Halfway across the courtyard, Marin's flying retreat came to its end.

To his left, at the center of the maelstrom of black and gray, Dark water exploded outward from a fountain, exposing an inky void through which the mist had risen. Now came an up-thrust of sea water that embraced the whole of the enormous courtyard, blinded Marin's vision and soaked his leather clothing. Choking on the salty brine that filled his throat, he fought to remain standing.

When the waters and his sight had cleared, Marin saw the newcomers to his world. The Dark Ocean's first emissaries had arrived.

Red eyes surveyed the courtyard, taking in the city of night, the crumbled and decrepit buildings and empty streets. Waist-high figures, ugly and blunt as wild mountain boars surrounded a hunched, compact figure of stone. Mounted high upon the central figure's broad shoulders, one on either side of the brutish head, stood small creatures, their forms hard to discern amid the shadows.

But the voice of the creature on the monster's right shoulder sounded clear and precise to Marin's ears when it spoke. "We're here…" The voice was feminine, soft and rich and melodic. A man could fall in love with that voice had it emanated from a pretty young woman or girl, and not a dark form seated upon a monstrosity. It held a promise of beauty far removed from the scene from hell at hand. "We have work to do. Tsukaimon," The other shoulder mounted creature stirred at the strange name, "You have your assignment from the master. Enjoy your games."

An eerie, playful laughter rang out from the creature called Tsukaimon, a child's laughter of delight and joy, but horribly tainted, mixed with some vibrancy that promised a cruelty of mind and spirit.

Tsukaimon rose from his perch on wing-like ears, a dark-shaded rodent creature, to all appearances cute and harmless. But the laughter… had been anything but cute and harmless. With a steady beat of wings, it hurdled into the shadows, a bat escaping from hell. Wherever it was going, hell would arrive with it.

"Now… Our turn." The female voice spoke again, her tone one of anticipation and promise. "Let us find the… 'friends….' who called on the Master. Right Goblimon?" The crowd of short creatures laughed, a hard, brittle laugh, like rocks tumbling down a slope. It was a sound as ugly and unappealing as their squat figures, a perfect match. The hulking, brutish figure remained silent, red eyes still gazing off into the city streets.

Marin could no longer cross the courtyard, not with those monstrosities so horrifyingly close. They were moving now, angling past where he stood in the shadow. The ground thundered under the heavy, rocky footfalls of the central hulk. The smaller creatures stepped about with a lighter clicking of claws on stone. The closest would pass perhaps twenty paces from him. Maybe he wouldn't be spotted; the shadows were so thick here along the fringe of the courtyard. Maybe…

"Wait!" _Her_ voice, commanding, yet soft and velvety; Marin could see her red eyes peering toward his position within the shadows from atop her living perch. Light, musical laughter echoed about Marin's frozen form. "You can't hide from cat's eyes. Come here." Marin continued motionless, but the voice was persistent. "Don't be scared… at least not yet. You could be one of ours. And we wouldn't want to lose any time getting… acquainted, now would we? Let me see your face."

He was trembling violently now, the short sword clenched tight in his gloved hands. Maybe if he ran, maybe Anna would be back with Baiden and the others. Maybe… "Golemon! Closer! I want to see his face!" The Golemon stepped closer, the gloom and shadows receding before it. Heavy, powerful stone hands and arms, large stone legs, compact stone torso, and stone head, partially covered by metal plating. Now, dwarfed by its sheer size and mass, he could see it, and the owner of the beautiful voice as well. Peering down at him from the behemoth Golemon stood a black cat, paws sheathed in darkly colored gloves. Except for the voice, it could have been any cat, with human garb added by some playful child.

But there were no children in this city…

Her eyes were alight with an aggressive eagerness that broke through Marin's frozen state. He had to do something. But the best that came to mind was to pull his short sword from its sheath. Not that it would do much good.

Even before his hand had alighted on his sword's hilt, the cat had caught a glimpse of his face and her eyes lost their eagerness. She shook her head slowly, but with a finality that spoke volumes. "He's not of the Dark. It was others who called out to us." That beautiful voice sounded disappointed, even saddened. But her last words sounded different; they were detached and disinterested... and cold. "Free him from the city, Golemon…"

One of the many Goblimon was staring right at him, mouth wide in an ugly smile. It was leaning forward, anticipation and delight not even slightly disguised. The smirk on his ugly features made _her_ meaning very clear. Only blood could make such a devilish creature so happy.

With a cry, he wrenched himself backwards, just in time to miss a massive swinging fist that shattered the rock wall beside which he previously stood. The smaller creatures crowded around, laughing and pointing as the Golemon raised its other fist high overhead. It had punched through a thick wall of massive stonework. The cold stone of the courtyard poked hard and unyielding against Marin's back, as hard and unyielding as the massive fist would be when it descended...

"Marin! Marin move! Get up!" Anna's voice, sounding as horrified as his own mind felt, echoed from the streets behind.

Arrows, sharp and accurate, sang out of the shadows and into the courtyard. The closest Goblimon's laugher broke off with a gurgle, leaving its comrades staring hollowly at a feathered shaft protruding from its wide-open mouth. A moment later, the slain monster disappeared in a cloud of particles. The remaining arrows found their mark against the Golemon, ricocheted with a bound off the giant's stone hide. The monster didn't even flinch; it was doubtful that it had even felt the multiple impacts.

Silence and stillness reigned together for a brief moment, but to Marin, they lasted forever. From his prone position he could see upwards toward the catlike creature upon the Golemon's shoulders. In the frozen impression of the moment he could read every aspect of her face. A sudden interest, almost a picture of mesmerization. She was staring hard, her gaze intense and riveted on the shadowy streets from which the arrows had emanated. Whatever she could see…

But that was all Marin could see, and the moment ended. With mind-numbing war-cries, the Goblimon leapt past Marin, waving about clubs of wood and metal and forming small balls of fire within their palms. Marin hadn't noticed the clubs before. How had he missed seeing them? And what had the cat been staring at? Could it have been….?

He would never know the answer. Marin's thoughts ended abruptly as the Golemon too leapt forward behind the Goblimon, its rocky foot bearing down on the young Scout of the West.

* * *

It was a truly odd phenomenon, one that would be remembered for years to come by those bystanders in the park who noticed. The wind whipped about savagely, clawing at anything which would yield to its strength- leaves, dust, various debris. Surprised park-goers clutched at their hats, or if their head were bare, attempted to return their hair to some semblance of order. One unlucky young man found himself too close to one of the madly fluttering swings, resulting in a knock-out blow to the chin… But the truly odd phenomenon was not the wind, but the lack of wind, at least in the one corner of the park nearest the sandboxes. A young woman, battling the sudden airflow with a tenacity that would have done credit to a bulldog, slipped past an invisible point and suddenly found her surrounding calm; mere feet away, her girlfriends barely kept to their feet amid the onslaught. People scurried about, gathering their chaotically rearranged possessions and retreated for cover. But several children playing about the pair of sandboxes continued to build meticulously planned castles, oblivious to the bedlam in their general vicinity.

It really was odd… at least for those who could not see the spiraling passage of fire about ten meters from the sandboxes, facing outward towards the rest of the park and the city beyond. This spectacle alone could explain both the ruthless wind and also its selective absence. But only one person was present whose eyes could see.

Taichi Yagami stood before the aperture in his world, his back as erect as a well-trained soldier, still and upright despite the pressure pouring from the gate. Like the portal he gazed into, his presence was unnoticed by the bystanders. The children about the sandboxes were too wrapped up in their project; the other park visitors too distracted by the gusts currently making their lives unbearably interesting.

Far in the distance of the gate, well beyond the fire, illumination faded away into an inky Darkness. The Darkness of the Dark Ocean… the Darkness of the city of ruins… It was there that he needed to go; through the gate, through the Dark. Not long ago, such an act would have appeared complete madness to the destined of Courage. But that was before. Now, there was little doubt that he would enter; he had already received the call, and responded to it. The faces of unknown companions beckoned him from beyond the fire, and he felt an overwhelming desire to go to them.

But standing here, on the threshold of departure, with everything familiar on one side and everything dreamed of on the other, his mind became clear as to the choice before him. To forgo all that he had built his life upon for the sake of some attachment and need, even so strongly felt… _"I don't understand. Who are you, and why have you called me? Why do I need to follow you're call? Everything I know is here, my family, my friends, my partner, my responsibilities."_

Though it might sound impossible, the spiraling flames before him appeared to slow their movement in response to his thoughts, as though the fire heard him and pondered his words. _"I recognize your faces, I recognize your world, I recognize your need. But why me? I am a defender of this world, and the Digital World. If I leave, what will happen to my friends who I leave behind? You ask a great deal from me."_

Taichi allowed his words to echo within his mind, waiting for some clarity to reach him, something that might help in this difficult situation. _"Can't you at least answer one question? Why have I been called?"_

Taichi let his head droop and his hands fall limply at his sides. If only he could understand… the choices would be so much he received no answer from those he called upon.

His answer came from the twisting fire of the Gate itself.

"_They can not answer you now Courage. Events have called them to action. The long waiting has ended. If you chose to join them, you will find that it has already begun." _A harsh, intense voice sounded throughout his mind, resonating about his consciousness without ever having utilized his ears. It spoke directly to him, a mental link from the fires of the Gate, sounding very much like fire itself; abrasive, hot and powerful. This impression was only emphasized by the pitch; it penetrated sharply like the sound of a raven or bird of prey. But despite the grating harshness of the voice, Taichi could vaguely pick up a surprising undertone to the words, one which sounded amazingly like affection and respect… and pity.

He hadn't been expecting a reply. The young man's words had been a way to voice his own inner turmoil and confusion, nothing more. Confronted by this sudden response, his previous powers of speech deserted him. But the voice seemed to sense this. _"You don't understand what is happening, do you Courage? It has often been that way for you, and for your comrades, receiving summons without explanations, being thrust into situations you know nothing about. Such was your experience when you first entered our world in your childhood."_

"_No, I don't understand. I have a life here, friends and family who are dear to me. But… I think that I must go. But I want to understand. Why?"_

The sadness and pity in the voice enveloped Taichi gently as it responded to his heartfelt plea for clarity. _"Because you are Courage. You love the Light, and all who chose the Light over the Shadow. Through both destiny and personal choice, you have become its greatest champion, a protector, strong and good and noble. Does it not make sense that the Light would appeal first to you when its children fall under the Shadow? And is it any wonder that you respond to its plea, regardless of whether you understand the need or no?"_

The slight spark of illumination began to burn within Taichi's mind. _"I believe that the dreams are a summons. I believe that you 'know' the faces of your dreams because they are of the Light, and you intrinsically recognize this. Without your help, their light will be extinguished."_

"_They need me." _

The voice remained silent. The fiery being whose power held the gate open, exposing the movement of Darkness, knew that no further words were needed, nor had he the right to speak them. It was his only to facilitate and enlighten; he had completed both tasks, and now could only watch the final choice of the young hero with sadness and pity.

Taichi remained lost in deep contemplation for an eternity of a moment. Faces flashed about his mind, friends, family, his partner… Sora… They flittered about his consciousness, conflicted with other faces, the faces from his summons. No words could convey the war fought about the recesses of the young man's mind.

"_I am sorry, but your choice must be soon. My power holds this gate open, but it cannot be sustained for long. It is unstable as it is; an artificial breach between your world and the gate that the Darkness has opened. It will collapse once a being has passed through it… It will collapse even if nothing passes through it."_

Taichi's bowed head came up slowly, a fire burning in his hazel eyes, replacing the faraway look that had previously reigned over his gaze. The voice's words had cut through the confusion in his mind. He _was _Light's defender. He had become so because of the choices he had made throughout his life, none of which he regretted. Now the Light called him to leave the people and places he loved. But had he any right to refuse? If he did, wouldn't he be refusing the very thing which made him who he was? His friends might need him. His departure might hurt them. They might not understand why. But even so, if he failed to respond to the call of the Light, wouldn't he be failing his friends too? They knew him as Courage; if he failed in his duty as Courage, then he would no longer be the young man who rightfully led them. He would no longer be a leader worth following…

…So be it, even if it cost him everything that he held dear. He would continue to be Courage. "I understand. I serve the Light. And I accept whatever must be done to safeguard it from the Darkness. Thank you." He spoke these words aloud, his voice carrying past the wind pouring out through the gate. The children playing in the calm of the sandbox glanced curiously in his direction; the tone of his voice far more intense and potent than any they had heard before. They saw only a young man gazing piercingly into an unseen distance, eyes alight with a glow none were experienced enough to understand.

If the voice had heard Taichi's final words it gave no sign, unless maybe that the fires of the Gate burned with a greater intensity. He stepped forward, raising his right arm as he did. It passed within the fire of the Gate without even the slightest burning sensation. Instead the fire felt warm, comforting. Before the eyes of the startled children in the sandbox, Taichi's arm disappeared from sight.

"Taichi Stop! Don't do it!" Someone was yelling to him, a different voice from the one before and far less controlled. It also seemed to be coming from a great distance, like the echoing voices of people trapped far underground. Or maybe Taichi was the one underground, and the voice reached him faintly from the distant surface. It held no force to his ears, its words failed to hold upon him.

"Wait! Don't do anything that you haven't thought through carefully yet!"

"_But I have thought it through carefully." _

"We need to wait for the others! The Darkness is up to something, and we'll need everyone's help! Koushiro and I can figure out what's going on! Then we can decide what to do about it! Taichi!"

"_I already know what must be done."_

"Taichi! Can you hear me?! Back away from the gate! Taichi!?"

Taichi never turned from the gate as he spoke. "It's alright Ken. I know what has to be done. Tell the others I'm sorry. And tell Agumon… tell him to wait for me. We'll fight alongside each other once again before this is over. Goodbye Ken."

"Taichi!"

The children in the sandbox stared in further shock and amazement as the young man with the glowing eyes and peaceful expression vanished after his missing arm.

* * *

Sorry this chapter is so late, and not as long as the others either. Life's been pretty crazy recently. Mea Culpa. But whatever, that's just the way it goes sometimes. It's up at least. A big thanks to everyone who reviewed the first two chapters, especially Frozen Twins. Major help from that cool dude. And once again, give me more reviews! It's not like I'm writing this for myself ya know. Next update is… forthcoming. Later.


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